


And Then...

by squeezenz



Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 140,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeezenz/pseuds/squeezenz
Summary: AU Set immediately after the Season 3 Finale. What I think could happen. Contains conversations and dialogue between my favourite pair . Introspection and intimacy abound. Mentions of other members of the team throughout. Rated for activities between consenting adults. I am not a scientist, so any sciency mistakes are all mine.





	1. Chapter 1

The dust from the concrete choked him as they ran towards the hanger, his eyes streaming, almost blinding him as they staggered to a halt. Clem coughed violently, clutching at her stomach still tender from giving birth. Jamie grasped his arm, dust clinging to the tear tracks on her cheeks, her eyes wide as she stared at the scene behind them.  
“Oh, my God!”  
Mitch turned to see the battered nose of the plane poking through the concrete wall, rubble all around it, the frantic shouts of what remained of the barrier armed forces sounding incoherent with shock at the sudden turn of events. He waved his free arm to clear the air in front of him, squinting into the chaos to see where the rest of their team had fetched up. He spotted Abe not far from where they stood, his arm around his wife, staring like himself in disbelief at their former conveyance now battering ram, the former security of fifteen feet of concrete between the hybrids and the rest of America now well and truly breached.  
He couldn't see Jackson or Tess, but as the dust settled he figured the pair had sought refuge elsewhere or maybe taken a vehicle to make their escape.  
“What the hell was Jackson thinking?” said Jamie.  
“He wasn't.” Mitch bit back. Clem coughed again, drawing his attention back to her. “Are you alright?”  
“I'm fine, Dad. I need to find Jackson, we need to get Samuel back, right now!”  
“Clem...”  
His daughter slashed her hand through the air, her mouth set in a mutinous line. “You do what you have to do, Dad..I have to find my baby.” She brushed off his hand and pushed past him, heading towards where Abe and Dariela stood. Mitch watched her go, frozen in numb shock at the speed of victory turning to disaster in the blink of an eye. A muffled sound made his swing back to where Jamie stood, her gun hanging from one hand while the other tried to scrub her eyes dry. Without a word he stepped close and drew her into a tight embrace, pulling her head into his shoulder.  
“I'm sorry about, Logan.” He muttered into her hair, hearing the gun clatter to the ground as her hands clutched at the back of his coat, her body jerking as she gave in to her grief. Mitch hadn't liked or trusted the younger man, but he didn't harbour any jealousy over Jamie's grief. All that had been thrashed out in the wee small hours, during that pillow talk seemingly overheard by everyone. He accepted that Logan had loved the woman in his arms, probably more than Jamie had loved Logan, truth be told, but that didn't wipe out the years they'd stayed together and looked after Clementine before Max stepped in. “I'm so sorry.” He murmured again, one hand coming up to stroke her hair in comfort. After another minute she pulled back and he loosened his arms to give her space.  
“There's been so much loss. God, we haven't had a chance to give Max a decent send off, now Logan...” she choked to a halt. Mitch dug around in his coat and managed to produce a reasonably clean square of cloth which she took to wipe her eyes, smearing mascara and tears in with the concrete dust.  
An IADG soldier approached. “We need to clear the compound. With the wall breached we don't know how long before the hybrids take advantage. We need to set up a barrier to protect the control center.”  
Mitch nodded and looked for the others. Jackson and Tess were still a no show, but Abe was close by, together with Dariela and Clem. He and Jamie walked over to them. All three were talking over the top of one another, conflicting ideas batting back and forth.  
“Hey...do we have a plan?” He asked. “Anyone seen where Jackson went?”  
Abe turned to look at Mitch, flicking a glance at Jamie before returning his gaze back. “He and Tessa have gone to organise transport. We need something more heavily armoured than the hummers. According to Clem the hybrid birds simply picked them up and tossed them around. If we're going to get the baby we need something more substantial.”  
Dariela joined the conversation. “Jackson seemed to think the IADG had some heavy armoured vehicles further along the wall. He's gone to investigate. Clem and I are going to pack up some gear and head out with them when they return.” Her tone was almost belligerent and Mitch sighed, seeing the same determination in his daughters eyes. He almost felt sorry for Abigail if she came between these women and that baby. Almost. Abe nodded.  
“I'm going to sort out a medical pack with the serum. Our window of four hours is shrinking, but I might have a chance to slow the rate of decay.” Abe paused. “No one knows that Jackson brought the plane here and crashed it into the barrier...”  
“And you want it to stay that way.” Mitch finished for him. “I'm not going to be any use to you out there. If the plane isn't completely wrecked, I'll start on finding out how that dog mutated into a hybrid so fast, and why it came back from the dead.” He glanced over at Jamie, who nodded. “We'll keep Garrison off your backs for as long as we can.” Mitch moved into Abe's space and lowered his voice. “And Abe? Make sure she is put down for good, this time.”  
Abe met Mitch's intent gaze for a long moment then nodded slightly. “We'll keep in touch and let you know as soon as we have Samuel.”  
Clem approached her father and they hugged tightly for a moment before she did the same to Jamie.  
“Good luck, Clem.” Jamie whispered as they parted. Clem just nodded. Dariela and Jamie exchanged a nod before she and Clem hurried away together.  
The two men exchanged a brief hug before each turned on their heels and headed in opposite directions. Jamie jogged to catch up to Mitch, her hand finding his as they stormed back into the chaotic control center. 

X x x x x x

Garrison met them as they entered the control room, his face livid with anger.  
“What the hell just happened? Can you explain, Miss Campbell, why your plane is now parked outside and compromising our defences?”  
Mitch instantly put himself between the angry head of the IADG and Jamie, but he was gently pushed to one side.  
“I have no idea how it ended up here.” Jamie replied. “We abandoned the plane with no expectation we'd be able to get back to it, or that it was able to move or fly. I left my control pads in the plane.”  
“Then how in Hades did it crash into the barrier?” Garrison was turning an ugly puce. “And how are we supposed to move it?”  
“If I can get on board I'll find my back up control pad and see if it's functional, I suppose.” Jamie retorted, her fingers gripping Mitch's hand like a vice. “As for how it got here, I imagine that Abigail had something to do with that. I was too busy here at the time to think about it.”  
Mitch remained silent, lending his support but leaving the bear baiting to her. Garrison looked fit to spit glass, his mouth working as he fixed his glare on the diminutive woman standing before him. His guards hovered at his shoulder, waiting for a command to arrest and incarcerate. At length Garrison's shoulders lowered and his head tilted upwards.  
“For the time being the plane will have to remain where it is, like a cork in a bottle, until we can cobble together some sort of temporary fix to that bloody great hole. In the meantime, I understand that the Echo team were attacked by hybrids and your friend Logan killed. My condolences. We've lost a great many fine people, and I don't expect we've seen the last of it.”  
“The team were attacked by Abigail,” Mitch stepped forward. “She controlled the hybrids to enable her to take the baby. My daughter is safe, but the team are going after Abigail to rescue Samuel.”  
“Do they know where she is? Garrison barked. “We're too short of man power to do much. I heard one of your team request aerial reconnaissance, but I had to countermand that order. We need every able bodied man to help effect repairs and evacuate the injured to Fort Brennan, where Logan was taking your daughter and her son.”  
“Jackson had a message from Abigail, and they're going to find out what she wants in exchange for the baby.” Mitch told him. “In the meantime I need to get on the plane to access my lab, to find out how the hybrids were able to infect that dog and bring it back from the dead.”  
Garrison looked grim for a moment then nodded. “The dog, along with its owner, are in the morgue. Take what you need and keep in touch. Once the wounded are evacuated, there'll be even fewer troops to defend the breach. Make sure you are secure when you get on board.”  
Mitch and Jamie exchanged a look. “We'll do that.”

x x x x x x

With help from a couple of the remaining engineers, they were able to rig up a gantry to give them access to the first hatchway along the fuselage, just behind the cockpit. They would have to cut through the door to get in, damage from breaking through the wall having smashed the access panel.  
Mitch looked down from his high perch, the hiss and crackle of the gas axe loud above the noise of hammering and heavy machinery clearing away some of the debris below. Periodically he could hear the rat-tat-tat of gun fire keeping the hybrids on the run, who, without the beacon, were happy to slink back from the killing fields of their brethren littering the open ground.  
“Almost done,” The engineer informed them. Within minutes he was standing up and placing a boot against the doorway, a heavy kick sending the roughly cut oval falling into the plane, clearing a way in.  
Jamie entered first, her torch flicking around the interior while the engineer packed up his gear to be lowered to the ground. Mitch followed her, a bag containing the dead dog in one hand, the other a torch highlighting the gloomy interior. Jamie had once joked that she'd made the cockpit into a breakfast nook, in fact it was still a functional cockpit just automated now. As they made their way out into the main living area, debris became evident, paper, glass and furnishings littering the floor, ceiling panels hanging down and wiring exposed in places. From the top deck they made their way down to the lab, again finding the ground strewn with broken glass and upended equipment, shelving and tables. Only the animal tanks and cages were intact, secured so they wouldn't tip, something Mitch was thankful for, not wanting to chase scorpions and other nasties in Jamie's collection, around the plane.  
“What a mess,” said Jamie, her torch switched off now they had the sunlight through the windows to illuminate the room.  
“Is there anything you can do about getting the power on?” Mitch asked, setting a table upright and putting the bag and its contents on it.  
“Already done. Jackson proved that by bringing the plane here. The EMP bypass has recharged and for all intents and purposes we are good to go.” Jamie indicated the mess around them. “I'll go check that we don't have any more hull breaches.” She paused. “I should mention that this bird won't be flying anytime soon. The wings are a mess, we're low on fuel and I wouldn't be surprised if the motors are burnt out too, or a least severely damaged. Jackson did a real number on this. For the time being we're running on battery only.”  
“Yeah. I don't suppose planes respond well to being used as battering rams.” He gave her a tight smile which she returned before turning away to begin her check of the aircraft's condition.  
“Isn't the first time, won't be the last!” Mitch muttered to himself as he peeled off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. It was going to take some time to restore order from the chaos. 

X x x x x

Couple of hours later and the space was at least free of loose debris and broken glass, largely swept up into a pile against the outer wall. Speed was of the essence, finesse would come later. Putting the broom aside, Mitch fired up his computer station and pulled up information on the genetic makeup of several of the hybrids they'd encountered to date. After taking and preparing a sample from the dog he now reviewed the results.  
An hour later he sat rubbing his eyes, noting that the sunlight was fading and his stomach was rumbling. Not having seen Jamie in awhile he made his way up to the bar slash kitchen to rustle up something to eat. He called out, but had no response. The kitchen took little time to tidy up, and he fixed himself a sandwich out of the last of the fresh food. Plate in hand he wandered along to their room and pushed the sliding door back.  
There, on the bed, lay Jamie fast asleep. For a moment he stood in the doorway admiring the view, his mind replaying the emotional rollercoaster they'd both been on for the past thirty hours. A wave of tiredness swept over him and he made his way over to the easy chair just inside the room. Flopping down he munched his way through the sandwich, then sat back, his hunger satisfied. Looking at the woman slumbering on his bed, he remembered her myriad expressions – guilt, remorse, grief, shock, tenderness, wariness, contrition, love. Yes, he'd seen the love, there when she returned to be at his side despite the threat of them being over run by hybrids, there when she sat beside him and restated her faith that he, Mitch Morgan would figure out how his alter-ego had created the beacon. It was in her lips, in her eyes, even in her actions. Her decision to keep Duncan around to kill Abigail had been to save him from being an assassin, she had wanted to keep his soul untainted by murder, even when, upon reflection he knew he would have gladly ended Abigail's life for the one she stole from him. It could be argued that she also saved his life after his mauling by the hybrids, changing his fate from heroic sacrifice to one of her Frankenstein creations via the bio drive, using him to create unknown horrors and diabolical tech to sabotage the teams' work and destroy the world. He grudgingly acknowledged thanks for being saved and returned to life, to the daughter no longer a child, and the woman he loved, as well as reunited with his friends...in the middle of that thought he dozed off in the chair.

X x x x x

“Mitch?” A gentle nudge brought him awake, blinking in the semi-gloom, Jamie standing before him, her hair mussed about her head.  
“What? Did I wake you....sorry.” He struggled to rise from the chair, finding his body stiff from being in such an awkward position.  
“No, you didn't wake me. Come and lay down, the bed is far more comfortable.” She tugged on his arm and steered him over to the side, giving him a push to make him sit down on the covers. He toed off his boots and socks before lying back with a blissful sigh against the pillows. Jamie made to leave the room, picking up the plate as she left. Mitch cracked an eye.  
“Where ya going?” he slurred, already half asleep. “Come back to bed.”  
Jamie smiled. “I'm just going to get something to eat and drink. I'll be back in a tick.”  
“..'kay.” Mitch had already shut his eyes, sleep dragging him under again.  
Jamie paused in the doorway, waiting until she heard him give a gentle snore before sliding the door shut and making her way to the galley. She was so stupidly in love with the man.

Her exploration of the plane had shown it had weathered the trip across the badlands to the barrier surprisingly well, the hull not breached despite the violent ramming of concrete wall. The wings had suffered the worse and the engines would need to be completely overhauled if not replaced. She wasn't sure whether her finances would be up to the task. With the world in chaos, who knew what was happening in the business world with everyone just trying to keep alive. Before the appearance of Abigail Westbrook, Jamie's financial situation was rosy, her investments ample for her needs. Now the world was going to hell in a hand-basket, grinding to a halt while the population strove to survive day to day, if at all. Abigail had changed the future of everyone, and every thing on planet Earth. Abigail and the insanity of the Shepherds with sterilising everyone. Jamie leant against the bar edge and let her head droop. There was a good reason why she hadn't wanted to hold the baby, a reason Mitch knew nothing about.  
In the distant past, due to a reckless teenage rebellion, she had become pregnant at sixteen, the baby not surviving past eighteen weeks gestation. It changed her life forever. It was the kick in the pants from reality that she needed. From that point forward she devoted herself to graduating, then going on to study journalism with a sideline in computer sciences, giving her skills that had since been invaluable in finding the information she needed to build a case against Reiden. She embarked on a crusade in memory of her mother and the other souls murdered, in her mind, by the Chemical giant. That feeling of life growing within her, of realising that she would soon be a mother with someone solely dependent on her, made her grow up fast. When that dream was aborted - literally, the feelings of loss and grief never went away, compounding those she already felt about her mother's fate. She avoided those of her small circle of friends who became pregnant, avoided any contact at all with babies or small children despite having a magic touch with both. It all hurt too much. Even the sight of a babe in its mother's arms made a void open up in her stomach, fingers clutching at her flat belly as if groping for the soft roundness that used to be there, albeit briefly.  
When she fell in love with Mitch, all those years ago, hope rose like a waving flag that maybe she would have a second chance at motherhood. She was only just thirty, the right time to be considering a family to her way of thinking. Despite his past lapses with his own daughter, she knew he had left Clem for good reasons, not bad ones. He'd done his best to find a cure, only to be thwarted by his ex-wife. He was a good man, driven, focused and sarcastic, but still a good man. But the Shepherds had snatched away any chance of her ever being a mother. Even if she had gone to Maine, even if they'd been together all these years, she still would never been able to carry his child, their child.  
Holding Clem's baby had been like a kick in the head, a wound she might never recover from, only meeting Mitch's warm gaze had kept her from breaking down there in the middle of the badlands, surrounded by hybrids, the fate of the world in their shaky hands. Shoring up her emotional defenses she had continued to hold Samuel until they reached the barrier, then handed him back to Clem, her arms feeling bereft of the warm bundle, the familiar emptiness opening up inside her again. During the chaos in the control room, all thoughts of a future were put on hold, her only focus being on Mitch and their surviving past getting the beacon down.  
That accomplished it was Miller time, break out the booze and let's party, for all of thirty seconds. Then Clem arrived to announce that Abigail had stolen Samuel and that Logan had died. She had been surprised at her visceral reaction to the news.  
Her relationship with Logan had been good and bad, often more bad than good, but he'd stuck by her after Mitch had supposedly died, living with her and Clementine, being the arms she clung to when her grief overwhelmed her and hope abandoned her. His was the body that offered comfort and release, his hands that cradled her when all she wanted to do was rail against fate and the injustice of the world. His were the lips that warmed her in the dark in those early years while the world around them rioted and destroyed itself once the extent of what the Shepherds had done became clearer. Logan had been her rock during that time, and she would be eternally grateful to him. She had been glad he was there when Max had arrived to claim his granddaughter, leaving Jamie floundering in the wake and the loss of her last emotional contact with Mitch.  
Logan had encouraged her to write, supported her financially and emotionally while she beavered away at her novel, his choice to join the police force giving her a stability badly needed in a world gone mad. With the success of her first book, she started to make plans for herself, plans that didn't necessary include anyone else, not even the man she slept with. Her sense of injustice rose up to haunt her, most deeply the injustice that Mitch had died for nothing, that Reiden had won, albeit a hollow victory.  
Her focus now turned to the organisation of the Shepherds, in her mind enemy number one. That focus has seen her spending long hours at the computer, when she wasn't doing the rounds of interviews, book promotions and writing the sequel. Early on she had seen the sense of keeping the plane 'in the family', so to speak. After the animals had been cured and sterility confirmed, the aircraft had been stored at the governments expense. Now, with her new found fame and finances, she decided to take ownership and give it a complete refit, making it her home as well as her transport. Technology allowed her to incorporate whatever she could afford to make it automated, no crew required. Her own flying fortress of justice and revenge. Logan came a poor second. In the end he gave up on her.  
At the time she was too angry to care, but over the years their lives had intersected, usually him chasing her over some legality or other, her tracking of the Shepherds putting her constantly on the wrong side of the law. She kept the rest of the world at bay, pursuing her one and only purpose, as she saw it, never thinking what she would do once her great crusade was over. Clem coming back into her life was both shocking and welcome. The possibility that Mitch was not dead was at first denied. Jamie had done her research well, and even without the evidence of a body, there was little left of any trail to follow. Clem arriving and producing a significant crumb was both salvation and a dawning horror of what Mitch might have suffered in the ten years he'd been locked in a tank.  
Of course they now knew that he hadn't always been 'tanked', had in fact been reworked into a creature for Abigail's use, Charles Duncan, compelled to be a servant to her will and purpose. The bio-drive in his head was now permanently switched to Mitch, but remained an unknown hazard to his health and well-being if anything went wrong. It was a constant worry that they may only have days instead of years together, that idea alone snapping her out of her thoughts.

X x x x x

Quickly creating a meal out of what was left of the fresh food, Jamie made her way back to the bedroom, Mitch now lying on his side deeply asleep. After having her meal she took a shower and changed her clothes before climbing onto the bed and laying down beside Mitch. Relaxed in sleep, without his glasses, he looked younger and less worn. She gently ran her fingers over his scruff covered cheek, his hair ruffled every which way as usual.  
She smiled to herself when she remember their first meeting, how clean shaven and tidy he'd been in his blue shirt and chinos, the perfect image of the lecturer he was. That had changed once they'd begun the serious investigation into the animal mutations. Out came the plaid shirts and jeans, the black t-shirts and leather jackets. Logan had been right when he'd said Mitch was more like the lead singer than the drummer.  
Staring into his face, she marvelled and how much he'd managed to survive, nearly mauled to death by hybrids, shot by Abigail, brain surgery, going blind, all the pressure of everyone looking to him to come up with a solution to every problem. And now a grandfather. Jamie giggled. He was never going to accept that appellation – ever. Of course, if they ever got to the stage of making their relationship more permanent, that would make her, Jamie Campbell, a grandmother. She giggled again.  
“What's so funny?” Mitch mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes but a smile tilting his lips slightly.  
“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.”  
“Was only dozing, resting my eyes...”  
“Sure. Well, if you're only dozing, would you like an update of our situation?”  
Mitch just nodded, still not opening his eyes.  
“We're secure for the time being, apart from the door missing at the front. Despite crashing into the barrier, the hull isn't breached, although with the landing gear down it does leave us vulnerable through the base of the plane. The space where the wheels come up is separate from all operating functions and the main batteries, but I'd want to add some extra bracing to the hatch access to make sure.”  
“What about our continued power supply? Won't the batteries run down?” Mitch asked, opening his eyes and blinking slowly at her.  
“Not for some time, and there's the added bonus of solar cells I added in the last upgrade.”  
“Solar cells?”  
“Yeah. I thought about what would happen if the plane was stranded somewhere with no access to mains power or the motors were damaged.”  
“Clever girl.” Mitch murmured, his hand coming up to sweep back a piece of bright hair behind her ear.  
“Mitch?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Do we need to talk?”  
“About what?”  
Jamie rolled her eyes. “About the last couple of days, about us, where this...” she gestured between them. “Is going?”  
“Well...”Mitch drawled. “I was hoping it was heading towards getting you naked on my examination bench...” He leant forward, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “Getting you out of those tight pants that drive me nuts...” His arm snaked around her waist pulling her towards him. “Thinking of filling that perfect mouth with mine.” He suited words to action and melded them lip to lip, tongue to tongue, drawing out the kiss until the room spun. When they eventually parted, neither had much breath left to talk, but Jamie gamely tried.  
“Mitch, that's not what I meant...”  
“I know. Genius brain and all that.” He sighed, meeting her anxious gaze. “Jamie, I'm sorry I yelled at you, I'm sorry I never told you that I love you. I'm sorry you had to make so many horrible decisions on your own. I know why you left me as Duncan, I explained that.”  
“You did...but, Mitch?”  
“What?”  
“I never told you I loved you either.”  
Mitch chuckled. “You didn't have to. You kept my glasses.”  
“Hardly a declaration.” Jamie huffed. “Maybe I kept them as a trophy.”  
“Nah. You loved me.”  
“Ass.” Jamie mock punched him before leaning in to kiss him. When they next surfaced, it was Mitch who spoke first.  
“I wasn't just angry at you. I was angry at everyone and everything. You were just an easy target.”  
“I know. I love you too.”  
They lay there, comfortably wrapped in each others arms, the faint sounds of activity beyond the walls like the sloughing of waves against a distant shore. At length Mitch spoke again.  
“So...we good?”  
Jamie let out a giggle. “We're good...whatever good is.”  
“This is good, this is great.” His hand found the swell of her bottom, smoothing over the silky fabric encasing it and extending the stroke down her thigh then back up again. Jamie pressed herself against him, chest to chest, her arms bracketing his neck, fingers digging deep into his hair to hold his mouth against hers.  
“Too many clothes,” Mitch murmured against her lips, tracing a path across her cheek and down her jaw to nibble at her neck. Between them they managed to wrestle out of their respective garments until they lay skin to skin, the darkening cabin illuminated by the spotlights outside that seemed to be constantly on the move, creating slanting shadows that exposed bright slices of bare flesh as the bodies on the bed moved together.  
This was what made them so right together, this binding of skin so that they melded into one, her smooth, rounded curves against his rough scarred torso, his body joined with hers with her legs wrapped around his waist, gripping him, urging him onward. His mouth devoured her skin, lapping at breast and neck until her sirens mouth drew him upwards again, feet digging into the covers to gain purchase while a whirlwind of gasps and groans voiced their pleasure, all else forgotten for a brief moment of time.  
Mitch, his heart hammering, poured everything he had into the woman below him, her slender body taking and draining him, convulsing around him with cries that pulled him over the edge into bliss.  
In the aftermath they lay still entwined, still joined, hearts slowing while lips and fingers soothed and savoured. The air around them cooled and he snagged one of the tumbled blankets to drag over them both. Jamie mewed when he slipped from her body, his arms gathering her to him so she snuggled into his shoulder, the blanket warm and soft around them.  
“Mitch?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I'm sorry...”  
“Don't be, that was...wonderful.”  
“Not about that.”  
“About what then?”  
“I saw your expression when I was holding Samuel.”  
“So?”  
“I had dreams too...pretty good ones, as well.”  
“About us?”  
“Yeah.”  
Mitch waited for her to continue, but the silence stretched.  
“Jamie?”  
“Yeah.”  
“If this thing Abe has going with Samuel works out, you might just get to have one of your own...one day.”  
Instead of responding Jamie burrowed further into his side. His questing fingers running over her face found dampness, confirming his suspicions.  
“I'm too old, Mitch. Maybe before, but now...”  
He didn't try to refute it. She wasn't anymore 'too old' than he was, but he understood that hope was a fragile thing, easily fractured and they were a long way yet from curing sterility. They had yet to determine if it was to do with Clem's past history, or maybe Sam's exposure to something that made them both able to sire and conceive and child. Were there other woman in the world able to become pregnant? Did they share anything in common with Clem and Sam?  
So many questions, and if Abe didn't get to the baby in time to administer the serum, would that doom them all, doom humanity or would they be able to create another baby using eggs and sperm from the young couple, even if they agreed to it voluntarily. What if they wouldn't? He'd fight tooth and claw to keep his daughter and her child free from harm, safe from being exploited, but he was only one man. With the future possibly held within their genetic make up did Clem and Sam have the right to deny humanity hope?  
“I would love to see you carry our child, Jamie...but if that doesn't happen, it doesn't lessen you in my eyes. Do my scars do that to me?  
“No, of course not.” Came Jamie's quick retort.  
“Then why would the inability to have a child affect you. It's not like we have a choice.”  
He felt the waft of warm air against his skin as she huffed against him.  
“I know what your trying to say, I just...”  
“Just nothing. Tomorrow never comes. You, Clem, Samuel, you're all my family now.” He felt her nod slightly against his shoulder. “Apparently we're also Jackson's family, which makes thing complicated...but hey, you can't pick your relatives.”  
Jamie giggled against his side. “That's what started me laughing in the first place.”  
Mitch peered down at what he could see of her face. “Explain?”  
“Gramps or Grandpa Morgan...”  
Mitch growled and dug his fingers into her ticklish spots. Jamie squealed and jerked against him, bringing her elbows in to protect her sides.  
“Stop, Mitch stop...I won't mention it again!” she gasped and wriggled until he stopped.  
“Never....never call me that again.”  
Jamie muffled her smile against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat for long moments, the warmth of his body soothing against her skin. Her fingers traced the line of a ribbed scar along his side, snaking over his stomach. It was Mitch's turn to twitch.  
“If you keep that up we won't get any sleep.”  
Jamie grinned and tilted her head up to better see his expression. He had his eyes closed but his lips were lifted at the corners into a smile.  
“I just marvel every time I touch them, how close you came to not being here.”  
“Yeah. As much as I hate to admit it, Abigail did us a pretty big favour resurrecting me.”  
They fell silent, neither wanting to acknowledge the truth of that statement. Sometime during that silence, they fell asleep, cocooned in warmth and secure in their feelings for each other. What battles and impossible tasks they had left to perform would still be there to face in the morning.


	2. And Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU Set immediately after the Season 3 Finale. What I think could happen. Contains conversations and dialogue between my favourite pair . Introspection and intimacy abound. Brief mentions of other members of the team throughout. Rated for activities between consenting adults. I am not a scientist, so any sciency mistakes are all mine.

Jamie stirred, the heavy weight of Mitch's arm draped over her waist a welcome comfort. The digital face of the clock beside the bed informed her she'd only been asleep an hour or so. Light still streamed in through the aircraft windows, no longer moving as before, but static. A faint scrabbling noise made the hairs on her arm stand up and she froze, every muscle tightening in readiness to flee.   
“What is it?” Mitch's deep rumble against her back and his lips against her bare shoulder made her relax a fraction.  
“Thought I heard something....listen.”  
They lay there, both now tense until the scrabbling sound came again, this time closer and from above their heads.   
“Guess they found a way.” Mitch intoned, already moving. “Is the hatchway we came through secure?”  
“Yes. I figured we'd get out through the landing gear rather than down that exposed gantry.”  
“Makes sense. How far are we from Abe's deadline?”  
“About an hour, give or take. We would have heard if they'd found the baby, wouldn't we?”  
She felt Mitch shrug. “Given his state of mind? No, Jackson would have called, if not him then Clem or Abe.”  
The scrabbling noise was getting louder and the distant sound of gunfire joined in.  
“Abigail got her wish.” Mitch growled. “Guess we've had all the sleep we're gonna get tonight.”  
Together they left the bed and hurriedly dressed, pausing once done to exchange a long hug, arms wrapped tightly around the other.   
“Time to save the world...again.” Mitch quipped. Jamie gave him a crooked smile and led the way out of the bedroom.

x x x x x

Up front and in the cockpit they surveyed the area beyond the nose. The spotlights were on the move again, sweeping back and forth over the ground, occasionally highlighting a dark, galloping body of fur and bristles as it raced forward. Muzzle flashes indicated where the IADG soldiers were holed up, picking off what they could within their limited field of fire. The lights showed several dead bodies below the plane but many more seemed to be evading the gunfire, flowing over the plane and the crumbled concrete like a black tide.   
At length the muzzle flashes lessened until they ceased altogether, the spotlights no longer moving as well.  
“Did they just give up?” said Jamie, leaning forward and turning her head to see better.   
“I think they might have given ground. They were already evacuating all non-essential personnel and the injured. Apart from the control center, what else is there to protect?” Mitch replied, drawing back from the cracked window and rubbing his chin.  
“They know we're in here, they wouldn't just leave us...would they?” Jamie looked back at him, her brow furrowed.  
“They may not have a choice. The hybrids look like they've pretty much overrun this area. Apart from barricading themselves in the control room, what choice do they have?”  
As if to punctuate his observation, the spotlights shut off plunging everything into darkness. Jamie gave a faint squeak of surprise, her hand finding his sleeve in the sudden pitch black. Slowly Mitch's eyes adjusted to the gloom, the lights of various bits of equipment providing points of reference around the cabin.  
“Torches?” he asked.  
“Over here.” Jamie replied, letting go of his arm and moving off slowly to navigate her way around. He let her go, it was her plane and she would know where stuff was. Best he not bumble around and make matters worse. A distant, loud crackling sound made him jump until he realised it was the old radio they'd unearthed and connected to the car battery.   
“Jamie?” he called out.   
“Got it.” A beam of light appeared and soon he had one pressed into his hand. Together they made their way to the bar where the radio sat abandoned on the conference table. It squawked again. Jamie fiddled with one of the knobs and suddenly a voice came through loud and clear.   
“....calling Doctor Morgan, can you hear me? Over.”  
Jamie lifted the handset and pressed the button. “We hear you. Is this the command center?”  
“Captain Hansen, Miss Campbell. You may not be aware but the hybrids have overrun our defenses and escaped past the barrier. Over”  
Jamie toggled the button. “We saw them. Is everyone evacuated? Over.”  
“Yes. The wounded were removed to Fort Brennan, Louisville with most of the non-combatants. The ground between here and there is mostly empty of population by now. Over.”  
“Will Fort Brennan be able to withstand a hybrid attack? Over.”  
“As long as nothing breaches the outer perimeter they should be fine. Over.”  
Jamie and Mitch exchanged a brief glance.   
“Is that subtle dig at this?” Mitch indicated the plane with a sweep of his hand. Jamie grimaced and turned back to the receiver.   
“That's good to hear. Any word from Jackson Oz or his team? Over.”  
“Nothing, Ma'am. The remaining troops will be bugging out in thirty minutes. After that you're on your own. Over.”  
“Give me a minute. Over.”  
Jamie thumbed the receiver off and stared at Mitch. “Do we go, or do we stay?”  
Mitch worried his thumb with his teeth. “Are we secure from the hybrids here?” he asked.   
Jamie nodded. “For the time being. There's no reason they would come in here. We have enough supplies for several days – drinking water, packaged food, power.”  
“And I have the dog to work on. I vote we stay,” said Mitch. “We just need transport for when we're ready to leave.”  
Jamie nodded and thumbed the handset on again. “Captain Hansen, we're opting to stay put for the time being. Can you leave us some transport? Over.”  
“Transport we're not short of, Ma'am. Will do. Good luck. Over and out.”  
Jamie clicked off the radio and lay the handset down. “That's it then.”  
“I'll get back to my research...”  
“And I'll make doubly sure of no surprises, as well as check on our resources.”  
They exchanged a quick kiss before going their separate ways, Mitch to his laptop and genetic research, Jamie to make sure nothing could get in without them knowing about it. 

x x x x x

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Jamie stood there peering at the screen.   
“They look different. Are they?”  
Mitch indicated the separated strand of DNA on the left. “This is the hybrid strand we know and love. Similar but not the same to Jackson's and Abigail's.”  
He looked up to meet her eyes. “By the way, Jackson and Abigail may be related through their father, but not the same mothers.”  
Jamie nodded. “I figured as much. Why keep her hidden for all this time, otherwise.”  
Mitch looked at the screen again. “Yeah. Anyway, this is the dogs' DNA on the right. See the difference?”  
Jamie narrowed her eyes but shook her head. “Not really.”  
Mitch tapped on the keyboard and highlighted several anomalies. “Here and here, and here and here...see?”  
“Okay, but what does it mean?”  
“Whatever transmitter they use to pass on the hybrid strain is still mutating, according to what it is passed on to. Remember Jackson was bitten by a seemingly ordinary dog, albeit a very angry one. It was no way a full hybrid at that stage, but still managed to pass that strain on to Jackson and start the process of changing him.”  
“With you so far.”  
“So this.” He pointed to the Ranger's dog DNA. “This is something else again. Given the animal was, we'll say infected, by a fully developed hybrid, it should technically only display hybrid characteristics, but that's not the case. The cross infection is producing a whole new strain of DNA.”  
“If I understand you, the dog wouldn't change into a hybrid, but something else?”  
“Close enough.”  
“But what?”  
Mitch threw up his hands. “Without a living host to observe and see what change, other than behavioural, happens I have no idea. Every true hybrid we've come across has shown characteristics unique to itself. Even the animals that have become affected by it, have created their own unique mutations. The bears grew armor, the ants became electrified and so on. But essentially they remained recognizable as themselves. Except for humans, like Kovacs and Jacksons' mother. They reacted differently.”  
Jamie nodded. “They seemed to be changing into an entirely different animal, unrecognizable as the person they'd been before. Not even human.”  
Mitch nodded vigorously. “Yes! And I think the same is happening here. But I don't know what the dog would have become. Maybe just another spiky hybrid, or possibly something more.”  
Jamie folded her arms. “So where to now?”  
Mitch sat back in his chair and tapped a finger against his lips. At length he turned to look up at her.  
“We gather together what information we have. Take samples of what we can and go looking for answers.” He slanted her a crooked smile. “Of course, if we could have access to Abigail's data, that would make life so simple.”  
Jamie laughed. “Since when has anything we've done been simple.”

x x x x x

Access to the internet was spotty, so they had only a vague idea of what was happening beyond the barrier now that some of the hybrid animals were loose. Without a beacon calling them forth, the number of animals now roaming beyond the wall was small, but Mitch wondered how long before they started to reproduce, or simply started affecting the local animal populations. He had many questions without answers – did a hybrid only have to bite an animal to affect it? Did it have to kill an ordinary animal to pass on the hybrid strain? Would all the animals, since the cure, be affected again, or only if they were bitten or killed? Where did the Reiden mother gene come into all this?   
His brain hummed with all the possibilities, not least factoring in the human equation and reaction to a bite from a hybrid, or hybrid mutated animal like a dog or cat. Would all the humans affected by the hybrid gene, like Jackson and Abigail, be able to control the animals and have rapid healing, or was that a direct result of Robert Oz's interference somewhere along the way. All of these and many other questions buzzed about his head as he gathered together samples of all the animals they'd gathered to date. He backed up his laptop plus a couple of external hard drives with every scrap of information he had, going right back to the beginning, including Robert Oz's notes and drawings. As dawn light seeped through the windows he thought about the rest of the team and how they were getting on.   
It was long past Abe's deadline for giving baby Samuel his next infusion and he wondered if they'd managed to wrest the child from Abigail's grasp in time. Jackson had done what she'd asked, the hybrids, if not all of them, were past the barrier and let loose upon the larger continent.   
Thinking about the cure for sterility made him remember his conversation with Jamie. He would be lying to say he hadn't thought about Jamie and children, his and her's. That Jamie had thought about it as well sent a visceral thrill down his spine, his mind conjuring up an image of his lovers' body large with child, his child, his chance to make things right, his salvation. She had already saved him body and soul, was hoping for a second chance at fatherhood asking too much?  
He shuffled those thoughts back into their box and slammed the lid. One impossible mission at a time.   
He had found a cure to prevent the animals turning before, he could do it again, he just needed a live subject to study and see how the mutation progressed and changed the host.  
No pressure. 

x x x x x

The radio crackled to life as they gathered their bundles together near the access hatch that led down into the belly of the plane.   
“....zzz....Mitch.....Jamie...zzz....hear me?...zzz...” The radio buzzed and hissed, the voice distant and broken, unrecognizable.  
They had been monitoring the digital channels but heard nothing, leaving the CB radio on as a back up.  
Mitch lifted the hand set and spoke. “We can hear you. Who is this? Over.”  
They waited for several long seconds before the speaker squawked into life again.  
“Mitch? This is Tess, your signal is weak. Can you hear me? Over.”  
“Yes. You're faint, but clear. What's happening? Do you have the baby?” Jamie nudged him sharply. “Oh...er...over?” Mitch finished.  
“We have the baby. Over.” Tess's voice called out. Mitch grinned and Jamie hugged him.  
“That's the best news. Is everyone okay? Over.”  
“We're all fine here. How is it where you are? Over.”  
“The hybrids are past the barrier. Everyone has left except us. We're secure for the time being and have transport. Where are you? Over.”  
The signal crackled for a moment while they waited for an answer. Mitch looped his free arm around Jamie's shoulder and squeezed, the pair of them grinning like fools at the good news about Samuel.  
“You're not going to believe me” Tess's voice sounded flat and distant. “....zzz...Rocky Flats....zzz..plant, just outside Boulder. Over.”  
Jamie quickly typed in the name into her tablet. Her expression became incredulous. Mitch leant over and his eyebrows rose to his hairline.   
“Tell me you're not at a nuclear waste dump. Over.”   
“...zzz...not the dump...in the complex.....zzzz....abandoned....over.” The radio fell silent.   
“Shit.” Mitch's short cuss said it all. Jamie continued to read the information spooling on her tablet.   
“In a twisted way it makes sense,” said Jamie. “No one is likely to voluntarily go there, once it was evacuated.”   
Mitch let out a snort of derision. “Only if you want to glow in the dark!” He thumbed the button again.  
“Are you coming back here? Over.”  
The radio stayed silent for a long moment, then burst into life.   
“Heading east-nor-east, as far from the hybrid break out as possible. Over.”  
Mitch looked grim for a moment. “Makes sense. Get ahead of the wave. We'll follow as best we can. Over.”  
“Keep off the main roads if you can.” Tess advised. “Going to get worse. Omaha probable destination for now. Over.”  
“Understand. Keep in touch. Over.”  
“Will do, Mitch. Keep safe. Team out.”  
Mitch thumbed off the handset and dropped it to the table.   
Jamie was doing some rapid Google mapping. “That's nearly six hundred miles from here. Main roads will be packed with evacuees heading north. We'll need supplies sufficient to get us ahead of the hybrids and any animals they turn.”  
“We'll need firepower as well.” Mitch added, his thoughts on his daughter and his grandson. Yes, he acknowledged to himself, he was a grandfather, just not out loud.   
“We need to check out what vehicles we have to work with. No good loading up if we don't have something big enough to stow it.”   
They exchanged a look before glancing at the windows and the situation outside.

x x x x x 

Mitch crouched down at the entrance to the vehicle bay. Jamie was inside doing whatever she needed to do. Their exit from the plane had been almost disappointingly uneventful. The few hybrids they saw were either dead or avoiding human contact, for a change. A shot usually sent them haring off in another direction to find a way out, rather than provoking an attack, something that surprised Mitch, given their previous experience with the creatures. He posited that maybe their former behavior had been a result of something in the beacon giving them subliminal directions, a possibility given Jackson's ability to control animals, although he didn't seem to have tried his technique on the hybrids themselves. Maybe Jackson didn't think he could, so didn't try.  
The sound of an engine revving drew his attention back to the present. A vehicle was lumbering towards him out of the gloom. He waited for it to draw abreast and the driver let down the window to speak.   
“Hey!” he called out, making his way to the heavily armoured driver's side door, the step up set several feet off the ground. “Didn't they have a Sherman tank available?”  
Jamie stuck her tongue out at him. “This will protect us from man or beast, and especially those bird-creature things.”  
Mitch lifted himself up to stand on the foot plate and peer into the cab. “What is it?”  
“Probably an armoured troop transport before. Four wheel drive, heavily reinforced unimog. It's pretty basic inside, but roomy. And there's a trailer that matches.” Jamie grinned at him.  
“What about fuel?” Mitch asked, stepping down to allow Jamie to jump out. She looked tiny against the monster truck.  
“We'll carry as much as we can, along with water, weapons, ammo, tools, spare tyres and stuff. The more self sufficient we are the better. Fresh food is about the only thing we'll have to scrounge as we go.” She reached up to undo the back door latch, swinging wide the door to reveal the largely empty interior.  
“Home'y and so luxurious!” Mitch snarked, softening his words with a grin. Attached to the tow-bar was a square box on wheels, no windows, but heavily plated and almost as tall as the truck. Shutting the doors, Jamie went back to hop into the drivers side, while Mitch clambered in the passenger side. “Shotgun!” he called out, making Jamie laugh.  
“Don't worry, hotshot, you'll get to drive as well.”

x x x x x

It took them the rest of the day to kit out the armoured truck and trailer, now backed up tight against the plane's side, with all they would need to travel across open county. Every scrap of food and water was harvested and stored, every piece of scientific equipment that could be carried was taken. The trailer quickly filled up with Jerry cans of fuel, camping equipment, ammunition and anything else they could squeeze in. While Mitch stood guard, Jamie stripped out some of the solar paneling and batteries, along with a satellite dish, radio aerial and other technical paraphernalia she thought they could use. Mitch didn't question any of it, quite sure that Jamie's resourcefulness was honed from years of having to think for herself and cover almost every eventuality. Finally there was no space left to fill. The drivers cab was bristling with weapons secured on the inside of the roof and in the side panels, along with spare clips. The dashboard had sprouted several pieces of tech including the CB radio, GPS, night-scope, tablet and camera's. Even the substantial front bull bars held rope, steel cable and spare tires. There was just enough room left over for them to sit comfortably in the cab with everything within reach when secured in the five point webbing supplied as seat belts. 

Jamie stood in the center of her plane, looking around at the near empty interior. For so many years this had been her home, her sanctuary, her hope. Now it was just a broken hulk, stripped of everything useful, its purpose – as transport – no longer valid.  
“Time to go.” Mitch's hands on her shoulders were warm and steady. “Want to make one last sweep?”  
“No. I'm good.” She turned around and wrapped her arms about his middle. “By the way, the good stuff is stowed in the cab, in case you were wondering.”  
“That's my girl. Get your priorities right and the rest is a cake walk.”  
They walked side by side, hand in hand through the plane, down through the access hatch to the ground and finally into the cab of their armoured truck. The sky above was streaked with colour as the sun disappeared behind the mountains at their back. Without looking back Jamie turned the steering wheel and they rumbled out of the compound, the grounded plane quickly swallowed up and out of sight behind them. 

x x x x x

The roads beyond the barrier was, as expected, largely deserted. To the south was New Mexico, to the north, Wyoming, at their backs the Rocky Mountains and a world populated almost exclusively by hybrids clear to the west coast. Ahead of them lay a six hundred mile road trip through northern Colorado, into Nebraska to meet up with the team in Omaha, always supposing they didn't over take them on the way there. Not knowing exactly what Jackson had co-opted for their mode of transport, they could only guess and assume the team had a substantial head start on them. Under normal circumstances, the road trip would take about nine hours, give or take. But nothing about the trip was likely to be normal. For one, he and Jamie were running on empty, having been up half the night, and all of the day. They'd have to stop soon or burn out. Jamie agreed with him, but also wanted to put as many miles as possible between them and the barrier before they stopped to rest. 

The empty landscape flashed past, spooling out behind them in the fast dying light of the setting sun. The distant white of snow on the mountain tops seemed to glow, mocking the puny humans trying to put right what was so very wrong with their world. The strong head lights illuminated the road ahead, reflecting off the road markings and road signs, marking off the distance to their first stop, Hudson, skirting Denver to jump on the eye seventy six. As they reached the outer suburbs of Denver they started to see abandoned cars, trucks and vans. Some of the vehicles had burned, others were skewed across the road way haphazardly. Jamie slowed their truck to navigate the hazards, Mitch keeping his eyes peeled for anything moving in the darkness.

The turn off was coming up to take them on a wide loop, avoiding the city center, and carry them further east. There were a few streetlights still glowing, but no houselights to see. A toppled lamp post, crashed vehicle at the base, spoke of panic and poor judgment.   
“Talk about the wild west.” Mitch muttered. The words were barely out of his mouth when a loud 'ping' sounded. They looked each other. Another shot bounced off the skin of their truck, Jamie jamming her foot on the accelerator to speed up. Mitch looked to the right and saw the flash of a gun fire, the bullet hitting his side window, making him recoil.  
“Shit!”  
Jamie didn't bother answering, her hands clenched on the steering wheel, one eye on the GPS and the turning coming up. “Hang on!” Was all the warning Mitch got as they careened full speed around the bend, the armoured truck's suspension acquitting itself admirably. Behind them the trailer followed as if on rails.   
They continued along the new road for several minutes without talking, the dark houses lining the road a haunting reminder of their situation.   
“Easy, Mad Max, ease off the throttle.” Mitch’s calm voice broke through Jamie's focus and she lifted her foot off the pedal. Mitch carried on talking. “Probably some local taking pot-shots. You chose well, grasshopper, they didn't even scratch the glass.”  
“Will you stop with the pop-culture reference!” Jamie laughed, her shoulders relaxing while her clenched fingers released their tension on the steering wheel. They rolled onwards. Mitch just shrugged and grinned at her. 

x x x x x

They went off road to find a site for the night. A stream led them to a gully that would shield their lights from the main road, hiding them from any curious travelers. It was also a perfect site to bury Max. In the light of the headlights, his eyes frequently blurred with tears, Mitch dug his father's grave. The sandy soil made light work of it, still he was soaked in sweat when he was done. Between them, they lowered his father gently into the hole. Without preamble, Mitch started to fill in the grave.   
“Don't you want to say anything?” Jamie asked, swiping at the tears that refused to stop.   
“Not right now.” Mitch replied, his voice hoarse and scratchy. He didn't stop in his task, shoveling the soil as fast as his weary arms would allow. At length the deed was done and he rested, panting, on the handle of the spade. His eyes were watering freely and he used his dirty sleeve to clear his vision, smearing more dirt over his face. Slamming the shovel into the dirt so it stood up by itself, he turned away from the grave and approached the back of the truck. 

One of the back doors was open and Jamie appeared as he approached.   
“Here, go get cleaned up.” She pushed a small towel into his hand and he took it gratefully. She also handed him a water bottle that he drank dry in a few seconds before handing it back.  
“Won't be long.” He mumbled before turning away. 

She watched him shuffle off to the stream and crouch down. As soon as he did, she donned the army issue night goggles and scanned the area around them from a perch atop the trailer. Everywhere was dark, no headlights on the highway, no houselights visible, just the occasional streetlight to indicate where civilization started. Only when Mitch returned did she clamber down to meet him.  
“Nothing's moving out there.” She told him, taking the now dirty towel and tossing into a laundry bag.  
Mitch stripped off his soiled shirt and stuffed that in the bag, before donning a clean shirt and toeing off his boots and socks, the latter joining the other dirty items to be attended to later.   
“Here.” Jamie handed him a tin of beef stew she'd opened and warmed up. “Looks like dog food, but tastes better.”  
Mitch stared at the contents for a second, cocked an eyebrow at her then proceeded to wolf down the impromptu meal, uncaring of its taste – good or bad. Jamie took the tin and fork from him and indicated with her chin for him to crash out on the mattress that was to be their sleeping arrangement for the foreseeable future. While Mitch lay down she bagged the now empty cans of food and sealed them so that the smell of meat wouldn't attract notice.   
A final perimeter check and she climbed into the back of the truck, shutting and locking the door behind her. She had already shut off the headlights, which left them just a torch to see by.   
Jamie stripped off her boots, socks and jeans, leaving on her long sleeve top and undies, before laying down beside Mitch and pulling a sheet over them both. It would be toasty enough in the truck just from their combined body heat and the trucks insulation. As she settled beside him, she noticed fresh tracks of tears, despite his closed eyes and appearance of being asleep.   
“Mitch?” She called to him softly, burrowing one arm under his neck. Without a word he lifted his head and moved into the shelter of her arms, his cheek against her neck, his arms encircling her tightly. His shoulders shook and she gathered him close, making soothing noises as he grieved. 

Sometime later she awoke. Mitch was still cuddled against her but now fast asleep. Jamie had come to rely on her senses and lay there, barely breathing, listening to the sounds of the truck and trailer and beyond. A large animal was snuffling around the truck, investigating it, stamping a foot now and then before blowing out air and sniffing again. The sounds were so normal and natural for an animal she consciously relaxed her tense muscles, whatever was out there had probably come down to the creek for a drink and posed no threat to them. Keeping that positive thought firmly at the front of her mind, she slipped back into sleep, Mitch completely unaware at her side. 

x x x x x

Dawn found them back on the main highway and pushing east. Breakfast had been a quiet affair, Jamie finding some wild flowers and placing them on Max's grave. Mitch examined the tracks evident around the truck and suggested they were probably simply a steer or cow that had wandered into their camp. Before they left Mitch stood for a moment at his father's grave, head bowed, his arms folded. Jamie didn't disturb him, just climbed into the cab and checked their route for the day ahead. At length Mitch opened the passenger door and climbed in, his expression closed.  
“Ready?” Jamie asked. Mitch nodded and she turned the key in the ignition.  
They saw nothing and no one on the bumpy trip back to the hard top, and apart from dodging broken down vehicles of every description, no sign of movement or threat either ahead or behind.   
“Let me know when you want to take a rest,” said Mitch, his elbow resting on the window sill as he stared out at the passing scenery, such as it was.   
“I'm good,” Jamie shot back, not turning her head, her entire focus on the road ahead. “Want some music? I packed a few cd's to pass the time.”  
Mitch turned towards her and followed the direction of her pointed finger to find the CD case. “Any  
Sound Garden in there?”  
“No idea, possibly.”  
Mitch rummaged for a moment and found the case, placing it on the dashboard to open and inspect the contents. “Don't recognize half these bands,” he muttered, flipping one disc after another. “Anything you'd like to hear?” he asked at length.  
“There's a couple of disks I put together for myself, their pretty easy. A bit of grunge, some rock, alternative, a mix of stuff.” Jamie replied, flashing him a smile.   
Mitch found the disks and popped one in the CD player. Soon music filled the cab along with an unmistakeable voice.  
“Hey, the Rolling Stones....cool.” Mitch enthused.  
“It's called the Hand of Fate. Often seemed appropriate, depending on my mood.”  
“Your mood? Did you often have a 'mood'?” Mitch teased.   
“Frequently.” Jamie smiled to herself. “Possible even more than a teenage Mitch.”  
“Hah!” Mitch laughed. “No one beats a moody Morgan!”  
“I had noticed.” Jamie shot back. Something raced across the road in front of the truck. Jamie swerved to avoid hitting it and slammed on the brakes.   
“What the hell was that?”  
They both peered after the fleeing creature. “Not a regular hybrid, the gait's all wrong and it's bigger.”  
Jamie snatched up a pair of high power binoculars and focused them on the rapidly disappearing animal. “Damn that thing is fast,” she reported. “Can't tell what it is despite the magnification. Too much dust kicked up.”  
Mitch was looking out his side window, seeing if anymore were around. “Look's like another one is coming through.” Holding up his tablet he set the tech recording just as another dark, unidentifiable animal raced across the road, so fast it was not much more than a blur. Mitch kept recording until it was lost in a dust cloud made by its own passing.   
“I think we can be sure the hybrids have caught up with us. Let's get moving.”  
Jamie nodded and started the truck moving again, picking up speed on the flat, straight highway. Mitch replayed the file he'd recorded, at normal speed seeing nothing but a blur, but when he slowed it down the image was still a bit blurry but more recognizable “You're not going to believe what those were.”  
“A jack rabbit?” Jamie quipped, eyes focused on the road ahead.   
“Something a bit bigger than a rabbit....would you believe a goat?”  
Jamie snorted. “No way that thing was a goat. It was way bigger and faster.”  
Mitch angled the tablet so she could see the screen shot he'd taken. It had horns like a goat, but that was were the similarity between the creature and a domestic goat ended.   
“No way.”  
“Yes, way.” Mitch retorted. “Obviously a blood sample would confirm it.”  
“But surely a mutation that extreme would...would take days, weeks, months!”  
Mitch shrugged. “We are so far out of of our comfort zone in science right now, I can almost believe anything is possible in regards the rapidity of change. Whatever those hybrids are carrying, it acts quickly to over take existing physiology and creates all new traits and enhancements at a rate we've never seen before.”

They didn't see any more strange creatures, only some of the local fauna. A flock of vultures circled slowly in the clear, cold sky, one or two swooping down but most just circling and spiraling upwards, riding the thermals.   
“Do we check it out?” Jamie asked, pointing to the birds. Mitch squinted into the sky before taking his glasses off and putting the binoculars to his face. The minutes stretched until eventually he lowered them.   
“Not hybrids, just your ordinary buzzard.”  
“So?”  
“Oh. Do you want to check it out? Could be nothing more than a dead dear or something.”  
“There's a turn off at Wiggins that will take us in that direction. Thirty four, going by the GPS.”  
Mitch chewed his bottom lip for a second or two. “What the hell, go for it.”  
Jamie flashed him a grin and pressed the accelerator a bit harder. They trundled into the outskirts of Wiggins, the small settlement as lifeless as all the others they'd bypassed since leaving Denver.   
Mitch was keeping an eye on the birds still circling, their direction and distance clearer once they got off the eye seventy six and onto the side road. Signage informed them they were approaching the Empire Reservoir, the flock of birds apparently interested in something on its shoreline.   
The access road to the reservoir was padlocked, but bolt cutters made short work of that. Cautiously they approached the expanse of water, Mitch once more using the binoculars to search the edge of the water. The flapping of dark wings on the ground pinpointed the scavengers location and they slowed to a crawl before stopping. It quickly became evident what the birds were gorging themselves on.  
Mitch and Jamie stared, appalled at the scene before them. The entire surface of the reservoir was covered with floating bodies of cattle. Bloated bellies meant the feet and legs stuck upright, creating a grotesque flotilla of limbs, clouds of flies rising and falling over the sea of carcases.   
At the shoreline the birds tugged and pulled as several dead animals, the birds in the air far outnumbered by those on the ground.  
“What happened to these animals?” Jamie asked, horror at so much death in her voice.   
Mitch just shook his head. “We passed a feedlot just now. Maybe they let the animals go before the people evacuated and...”  
“They all jumped in the water and drowned?” Jamie now sounded incredulous.  
“Maybe the water is poisoned.” Mitch suggested.  
“Well it sure is now!”  
She eased the truck forward to turn it around, sickened by the sight of the bloated bodies bobbing in the water. When they were once more heading for the exit, Mitch reached over and put his hand on her arm.   
“We should get a sample before we leave.”  
Jamie looked at him. “Of one of those bloated bodies?”  
“No. The water. If they were poisoned, I'd like to know what it was. This is the main water supply for the town and surrounding farms, crops and animals alike. If something has gone into the ground water...”  
“You think this might have something to do with the hybrids?”  
“I don't know...hence the sample.”  
Jamie took the truck off road and they bumped their way to the edge of the lake. Here the floating bodies were far enough off shore, but they were still hit by a wall of putrefaction when they opened the doors and climbed out.   
“Oh, my God, that is foul.” Jamie gagged. Outside the buzz of insects was exponentially louder, overlaid by the cawing of the birds as they squabbled and fought over their gory meal.  
Mitch carried his sample bag over to the edge of the water and crouched down. He already had gloves on and quickly filled several containers with liquid, as well as some of the gritty sand just beyond the waters edge. Soon they were back in the truck, glad to put on the air conditioner to clear the stench that pervaded the cab.  
“I think we need to find somewhere I can examine these samples. Somewhere the air is breathable,” said Mitch.  
“There's another lake further along this road, plus a possible water source.”  
“Clever girl. I could make comparisons and see if it was just the reservoir that's compromised or all the water in the area.” He beamed at her. “You're becoming quite the science geek to my mad professor.”  
Jamie laughed. “Don't get too comfortable with that image of me in a short lab coat and white fish nets quite yet. I'm more of a Ellen Ripley than a Rocky Horror.”  
Mitch pretended to look shocked. “Never say. And you told me off for too many pop-culture references.”

They proceeded down the back road until they reached a crossroads.  
“That takes you to the Riverside Reservoir, over the South Platte River.” Jamie pointed to the Google map on her laptop. “And guess where the South Platte River originates?”  
Mitch leaned over to peer at the map. “I'm guessing just south of where we've come from at the barrier?”  
“Give the man a prize.”  
Mitch smirked. “You're thinking that whatever poisoned the cattle came from the source, the Platte River.”  
“Why not? Maybe Abigail put something in the water, some water borne hybrid to makes it unusable for people and un-mutated animals. It's not a stretch to see her doing that.”  
“I'll need a shit-load more samples to confirm that diagnosis, and proof that the water in the reservoir came from the river.”  
Jamie toggled the mouse on the lap top, doing a quick visual search back from the reservoir to where it joined the main South Platte River. “Ta-da. There's your proof.”  
“Okay, okay.” Mitch smiled. “We'll take samples of the downstream water, and this other reservoir and see if we can find a common denominator.”

They stopped briefly where the road cross the Platte, then at the River Reservoir to take more samples. The morning was now gone so they decided to stay where they were and see if what Jamie suggested was true. While Mitch set up a makeshift mini-lab to test the theory, Jamie kept watch atop the trailer on the surrounding countryside, for all intents and purposes currently devoid of life.

“You know,” Mitch called up to her. “If it wasn't for the heavily armed vehicle, loaded weapons and this set up.” He indicated his temporary work bench. “This would be a pretty nice picnic spot.”  
Jamie laughed and shook her head. It didn't seem to matter how dire their circumstances, Mitch always found a way to make her smile.   
“I'll fix us some lunch. Anything so far?” She asked.  
“Science takes time, Miss Impatient.”  
Not bothering to reply, she clambered down from her perch and slung her rifle over her shoulder, not willing to let it be far from her reach regardless of what she was doing. Out here, vulnerable as they were, dart guns were not enough to secure their safety. Mitch hadn't argued but preferred to have a hand gun at his side, rather than something bigger, so as not to impede his work.   
The appearance of a plate with sandwich at his elbow drew his attention away from the microscope.   
“Thanks, I'm starving.” He wolfed down the food and quickly returned to his perusal of the specimen.   
“You're welcome.” Jamie replied, her own sandwich still uneaten, so fast had Mitch gobbled his down.   
Recognizing that Mitch was deeply engrossed in his research, she climbed the ladder to her perch on the trailer and munched her own lunch, baseball cap shading her eyes while she scanned for any movement in the scrubby land around them. 

x x x x x

Two hours later and Mitch finally surfaced, rubbing at his neck while he stretched the kinks out of his back from sitting too long in one position. At his elbow a notepad was covered in text and equations, notes and drawings, illustrating what he'd discovered living in the water samples. Chemical analysis confirmed what Jamie had theorized, the results undeniable.   
The water in the two reservoirs and the river all showed similar levels of contaminant by a spore that he had yet to determine was either naturally occurring or a hybrid, thereby Abigail, creation. Whatever or whichever it was, it was hazardous to humans and some animals. He didn't say 'all' animals because the evidence wasn't there to support it. There were no dead bodies of different species either floating in the water or laying beside it, at any of the water sources. Only the one next to the feedlot. And if the flesh of the cattle was poisoned, the birds would be dead too, or not touch it. So whatever killed the cattle, and he was pretty sure it was something in the water, it was selective in what it killed. Without testing it on a person, he couldn't completely be sure it would act as a deadly poison or just make them ill.   
Maybe this was the transmitter they were looking for. If all the wolf-like hybrids carried this spore, they would only have to bite something or drink from a water source to pass it on. It would certainly make more sense that a mutation would be carried in water, that every creature on the Earth needed, than wait for the hybrids to bite every creature on the planet. It just needed one hybrid to slobber into a stream to spread it far and wide. Water was essential to all life, man or beast, bird or insect. What better way to ensure the spread of the mutation. Even if all the hybrids were killed, there was currently no way to ensure that every drop of water could be contained and cleansed, even if a way was found to do that. As diabolical plans went, it was genius. 

“So where do we go now?” Jamie asked. Mitch had just finished explaining his theory to her.  
Mitch ran his fingers through his messy hair and paced.   
“What do we do? We get our team back together, get these samples somewhere I can give them a proper analysis and we find a way to filter it out of the water. That or neutralize the spores so they don't either poison or mutate the drinker. All in a days work, really!”  
Mitch stopped his pacing when he found Jamie blocking his path.   
“Then pack up this circus and let's get moving. I'll drive until it gets dark, then you can take over. The sooner we get to Omaha the better.”  
Mitch stared down into her clear gaze, lost as he always was when his wonderful love made perfect sense. “I love you.” He said simply, his hands cupping her face before fitting his mouth to hers in a long and very satisfying kiss. When they parted, with a great deal of reluctance, they set about breaking camp and finding their way back onto the main highway, and back on track to joining up with the others. They had one more piece of the puzzle within their grasp.


	3. Along the Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See Previous Chapters for summary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Author note: I'm not a policeman, I have no idea what they would really say or do in this situation, so just go with it.)

Mitch glanced over at the woman sleeping in the seat beside him. He'd tried to get her to go lay down in the back, but she's resisted, arguing that the passenger seat was fine and she didn't sleep much anyway. That was three hours ago.  
They had crossed the border into Nebraska at Julesberg, still shadowing the South Platte River on their left, on the eye eighty east about to drive into North Platte, where the two rivers combined. He planned to stop and get another set of samples where the two rivers, the north and south converged, to see if the more northerly branch was as yet contaminated with the hybrid spores before it joined with the main flow. It would mean they'd have to go through the center of town for a clean sample, then on to the airport where the convergence took place.   
As they progressed further and further east, the chaos that was so apparent nearer to Denver was not so in North Platte. The streetlights were on, shop lights bright as well. Even some of the houses were lit up and seemed to be occupied. There wasn't a great deal of traffic, in fact he hadn't seen a vehicle of any shape in hours, but maybe there was a curfew in place.   
Even as he thought those words, the sound of a police siren and the flash of red and blue lights appeared behind the trailer.   
He reached over and shook his traveling companion.  
“Hey, Jamie...wake up, we have company.”  
From being fast asleep, Jamie was instantly awake and alert, checking out the side mirrors as well as the rear mounted camera, showing the police car behind them in monochrome.  
“Crap. Where are we?”  
“North Platte. Nebraska.”  
Jamie stared at him. “How long was I asleep?” She tried to push her mussed hair behind her ears.  
“Three hours, give or take.”  
Mitch pulled the truck into a lay-by just before an overpass and stopped, the police car following suit. “I'll get out. I don't think seeing this arsenal will make him any less nervous.” He pointed to the guns lining the roof and sides of the cab. Unbuckling his harness, he quickly opened the door and jumped down, hands already raised to show he wasn't carrying anything threatening. He started to walk slowly toward the police car when a voice rang out.  
“Stay right where you are, mister. Keep your hands where I can see them.”  
Mitch did as instructed, standing as relaxed as possible a couple of feet from the side of the unimog, his hands held at shoulder height, fingers relaxed. The police officer was obviously trying to check the plates on the trailer with his records. Good luck with that, Mitch thought to himself. The front truck had no plates at all, being an IADG vehicle, and the trailer only had a small plate at the back, nothing like a usual number plate.   
At length the officer gave up and got out of his car, his hand firmly on his firearm, not drawing it but making it clear he would without hesitation. Given the strange times they were living in, Mitch was glad for the man's restraint.   
“Care to explain what this rig is for, Sir? I don't see any plates or identifying insignia.”  
“I'm with the IADG out of the barrier command center in Boulder.” Mitch told him, still keeping his hands raised.  
“Can I see your license and registration, Sir!”  
“Well, there's the thing. I don't have either of those.”  
“Then we have a problem, Sir. Is there anyone else in the vehicle with you?”  
“Yes...but..”  
The police officer started to shout. “You in the vehicle. Come out and show yourself. Keep your hands where I can see them!”  
As instructed Jamie followed Mitch out of the vehicle, her hands held up to show no weapons or anything threatening. She calmly walked up to stand beside Mitch, her expression neutral.  
Faced with two innocuous individuals and one badass vehicle, the officer was nonplussed. He'd expected quite a different scenario when the vehicle had rumbled past him, unseen down a side turning. It was obviously a military style vehicle of some sort, no plates, no discs, nothing to identify it. With all the upset in the local area and talk about monsters, he'd expected the occupants of the truck to be a couple of hardnose'd, gun-toting, camo-wearing headaches. Instead he had a forty something male who looked like a scruffy, glasses wearing nerd in a leather jacket and a petite redhead in tight jeans.  
“Are you here voluntarily, ma'am?” he asked. The woman and man exchanged a glance, the man raising his eyebrows and shrugging, the woman giving him an exasperated expression before turning back to face the officer.   
“Yes. Of course I'm here voluntarily. We're with the IADG. We've come from the command center at the barrier, in Boulder, Colorado.”  
“Do you have any documentation, identification or proof of that, ma'am?”  
“Er....well...probably not.” Jamie exchanged another glance with Mitch, who again shrugged unhelpfully.   
“Then, as I told your partner, we have a problem. I'll need you to accompany me to my Troop headquarters to explain why you are out after curfew, and what this...” He waved at the unimog. “Is all about. Please put your hands behind your back and face the side of your vehicle.”  
As Mitch moved to comply, he placed himself between Jamie and the trooper. It was enough time for Jamie to pull out the dart pistol from the waistband of her jean and fire at the officer. The man went down without a whimper.  
“How much did you put in that thing?” Mitch asked.  
“Enough to drop a rhino. I didn't want him having a chance to pull his gun on you.” Jamie retorted. Walking over to the downed officer she crouched down, pulled the dart from the man's neck and placed two fingers on his pulse point, paused long enough to feel for a steady beat then rose up and sauntered back to Mitch.  
“Out for the count but still beating.”  
“Fine. Help me get him back into his car.”   
“Why?” Jamie asked as Mitch moved to lift the man.  
“Because if we leave him here, who knows what might decide to snack on him.”  
Tucking her weapon away, she helped jam the unconscious man into his seat and slam the car door.  
After taking a moment, she reopened the car and switched off the blue and reds, and the headlights. The police car was now just another abandoned vehicle until the officer woke up.   
Satisfied she returned to the truck and climbed in. “Thought it better not to leave him all lit up like a Christmas tree. Don't need to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves, after all.”  
Once belted in, they set off again, this time taking the first opportunity to turn off the interstate and navigate a way through the town via the back roads.  
“Just in case the nice officer has any buddies around.” Mitch explained as reason for their convoluted trip through the center of North Platte. 

X x x x x

The town appeared as deserted as the interstate, no cars or any vehicles moving, no people or animals either. Apparently they ran a tight curfew in North Platte.   
They eventually arrived at the rivers edge, a track bordering a dog park enabling them to get really close as well as act as a good place to hide while they tested the water.   
Mitch loaded up his sample bag and used a barely discernible path to the river bank, there he filled a couple of vials before turning back. He heard and noise and froze, his torch hastily concealed in his pocket. The sound was of something crunching across the river gravel. Whatever it was, it was not hurrying or running away from anything. On a hunch he pulled out his torch and shone if towards the sound. As he suspected it was a deer, picking its way across the braided river, using the raised gravel beds. The river was low making it easy for animals to make their way across from the other side. The deer looked at Mitch with liquid eyes before passing on its way, uncaring or simply unafraid of the human watcher.   
“What took you so long?” Jamie jumped down from the trailer as he arrived at the back of the truck.   
“Sheesh, do you have to do that?” Mitch groused, his nerves on edge. “I saw a deer. It looked normal, but it wasn't remotely afraid of me. I'm surprised it appeared so close to the edge of town.”  
“Maybe it's a behavioral trait left over from before they were cured.” Jamie suggested.  
Mitch stowed his samples and walked around to the drivers side. Once he had the truck going again he picked up the conversation.  
“I'd be very surprised if that animal was more than a year or two old, so it wouldn't have been alive when we first found the cure for the defiant pupil.” They pulled out onto a back road, heading for the confluence of the two rivers. With the street lights still lighting the road, he didn't put on the headlights.  
“Stealth mode.” He explained with a grin when Jamie queried the move.   
“I think you're really enjoying all this sneaking about.” She stated, flashing him an answering grin.  
Mitch swung the truck into a sharp turn. “You gotta admit, it gets the heart pumping. You know you're alive.”

They followed the side road that bordered the river until they had to leave it to join the main road, Lincoln Highway, that ultimately headed to the airport. From there they would need to use an access road that wound around the end of the runway to the dam where the two rivers became one. When they turned into the approach road, it was clear the airport was not in use, the whole place in total darkness with only the approach road streetlights still on. None of the runway lights were showing as they cut the locked gate on the side road. As Mitch waited in the cab for Jamie to finish with the gate he heard the distant sound of police sirens. At that moment the door opened and Jamie appeared.   
“Did you hear them?” She asked, breathlessly. “Maybe they found him already, or he woke up.”  
“Either way, we need to get going. Strap in.”  
The truck rumbled along the access road, Mitch concentrating on driving with the minimum of lights, while Jamie kept watch out of the passenger window for any sign of approaching police cars. She had her window down and they could both hear the distant wail of sirens, over the sound of the engine.  
Eventually even the street lights were obscured by the dips in the uneven landscape. Mitch had slowed their progress to a crawl, one eye on the dirt road, the other on the tablet showing the Google map tracing the route to the dam. At last they arrived and he switched off the motor, the sudden quiet a welcome balm after all the tension.  
“No point stumbling around in the dark this time. I suggest we catch up on some sleep and tackle the rest in the morning.” To underline his point he let out a huge yawn. “Sorry.”  
Jamie sent him an indulgent smile, barely visible in the gloom of the cab.   
“Sounds like a plan. I'll just do a quick recky before we settle in.” Grabbing the night vision goggles off the dash, she left the cab and walked towards the back of the truck. Inside the cab, Mitch rubbed a tired hand over his face, grimacing when it encountered several days worth of growth.   
“Really need to get on top of that,” he groused to himself, before climbing out and heading for the back of the truck. 

Up on the trailer Jamie was scanning the landscape. She could see one or two street lamps, and they were closer to the main highway across the river, so those lights were easily visible from her vantage point. But there were no flashing lights or wailing sirens any more. If she hazard a guess, she'd assume that the police would continue east along the eye eighty, that anyone stopped would have kept on going. Of course that was also assuming that they weren't able to see the unimog turning off further up the highway via the dash-cam footage in the police car. Given that there was no evidence of an organized man hunt and attendant activity with flashing lights and torches anywhere to be seen, she assumed the footage must have just shown them pulling away, not turning off – so no search likely. Of course, now their vehicle and personal description will be circulated among the official police channels, assuming that's working better than the current state of the internet. With that the case they would have to stick to back roads until they reached Omaha or were able to make contact with Jackson and the team. A soft whistle drew her attention to the ground below.  
“Are you staying up there all night? I can pass you a blanket.”  
She peered over the edge, night vision goggles still in place, to see a ghastly, illuminated green Mitch staring up at her, his brows drawn together in a frown.   
“Down in a tick. Just have to take a pee.” Jamie retorted.  
“Not off the back of the trailer, I hope!” Mitch grumbled, stepping back hastily.  
Jamie laughed and started down the short ladder. “I'll see you inside.”

“Your feet are cold.” Mitch growled when she crawled in beside him minutes later.  
“But you're so warm. Move over.”  
The lovers shifted about until they found a position that suited. “Anything moving out there?” Mitch asked the inevitable question.  
“Nothing to worry about, but I've been thinking that we need to plot a new route to Omaha that doesn't include the main interstate.”  
“Yeah. Had a similar thought myself. We're probably splashed all over the most wanted screens by now. Until we meet up with the Team we'll have this problem with any state authority we encounter.”  
“How does it feel to be a wanted felon.” Jamie teased, her breath warm against his ear.  
“Just peachy, right now. Wouldn't want to be anywhere else.” His lips found hers in the darkness and they embraced for long, luxurious minutes before breaking apart and resettling.   
“Never a dull moment for us, is there.” A sigh followed this statement and then it was quiet. 

X x x x x

They had breakfasted, shaved, sampled and refueled before the sun broached the horizon. They made their escape from North Platte via the access road, then back onto the Lincoln highway, which at times ran a close parallel to the interstate, but far enough away even at its closest point, with train tracks between them, to avoid anything traveling the eye eighty to see them. This was flat cattle country with dirt roads criss-crossing the whole area, some merely muddy tracks to move the cattle along, others reasonable hard tops where they could keep up a steady speed. They were only a few hours from Omaha now, and both were keen to catch up with their friends, see the baby and pass on what they knew.  
When they approached any township they slipped onto the back roads and skirted the centers of population. They used the CB radio to tune into any local channels but there was little to listen too, and less to hear.  
Late morning and they were approaching the outskirts of Omaha. They had to take a wide loop around Kearney, Gibbon and Grand Island, leaving the interstate far behind them as they carried on, up round Columbus, the Platte River their constant companion until they finally headed southeast into the outer suburbs.

They parked on the side of a dusty road outside Waterloo and decided to try using the radio to make contact.   
“Calling the Dream Team....come in please. Jackson, are you there?” Jamie thumbed off the mike and adjusted the frequency a notch or two. “Calling the Dream Team...anyone listening?”  
The channel fizzed and popped for several minutes before she tried again.  
“Is anyone out there on this channel...calling the Dream team.....can you...” Suddenly a voice cut in.   
“...can barely hear you...whe...you?”  
“Tess, is that you? Over.” They waited and then the voice returned.  
“...Jamie...left Omaha...not safe...zzz...”  
“Dammit, Tess we can barely hear you. Did you say Omaha not safe? Over.” Agonizing seconds later they got a reply.  
“...go to Silver...left message for you there...Silver Ci...speak to Elvis...zzz..”  
“Did you say Elvis? Over.” Jamie exchanged a confused look with Mitch.  
“..zzz...yes, Elvis. Be careful, avoid the...zzz...” The voice faded away.   
“Tess, say again...avoid what? Over.” The radio continued to buzz intermittently, but there was no further voice contact.  
Jamie tried again. “Tess, we didn't get your message. What do we need to avoid? Over.”  
They waited but there was no reply, the signal just hissing despite several attempts to refine and re-tune the receiver.   
“Well that's a fat lot of nothing!” Mitch thumped the side of his fist down on his thigh.  
“They didn't say where they've gone.” Jamie stared at the handset for a second before hanging it up on the radio set. “How do we find them now?”  
“According to Tess we go to Silver something and find Elvis. Any ideas what she meant?” Mitch looked over at Jamie, but she was reaching for the tablet and already punching the keyboard.   
“They must have been here at some time, so it's reasonable to assume this silver something is nearby. Hah! Silver City. Looks like an agricultural flyspeck across the border in Iowa. Population of about two hundred and fifty people.” Jamie passed the tablet for Mitch to read for himself.   
“Is this another of those romantic places you're so fond of taking me?”  
“At least it won't be hard to find this Elvis person.” Jamie offered as a consolation. Mitch just huffed and passed the tablet back to her. 

X x x x x x x

“If we avoid the central city, it'll take nearly two hours to loop south then come north, cross the border and reach Silver City.” Jamie informed him. “We have to cross the Missouri River at least once, so you could take another sample, if you wanted to start a collection?”  
Mitch twitched an eyebrow at her but refrained from taking the bait. “What I want is a hot shower, and a cold beer. Not necessarily in that order. Do you think we'll find that in this Silver City?”  
“Not according to this. They have a cycle track, a bank and a burger bar.”  
Mitch dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “You weren't kidding when you said it was a flyspeck!”  
“They probably serve cold beer, and there's no police presence in the town, so that's a plus.” Jamie added.   
Mitch raised his head and sighed. “Okay. Here's what we do. We park this on the edge of town, somewhere it won't attract attention. Then we walk in, have a beer, find Elvis, get whatever he has for us, and walk out again.”  
Jamie nodded her approval. “That'll work. Low profile is good. Might have to come up with some clothing that better fits the cover. Leather jackets and black wool coats don't exactly scream tourist or mid western rural.” She waited for him to erupt. He didn't disappoint.  
“What the hell does that mean? You said you liked the leather jacket, and anyway, it's not like I have an extensive wardrobe to choose from Miss Pants-so-tight-they're-painted-on!”  
Jamie laughed out loud at his expression, Mitch unable to stay cross for long when she laughed like that.   
“We'll manage.” Jamie soothed. “And yes, I do like you in that leather jacket. Makes you look like the lead singer in a rock band.”

x x x x x

Two hours later and Mitch was attempting to smooth his unruly hair into some semblance of tidiness. He was wearing a casual blue button down shirt that he left untucked out of his jeans. Jamie had produced a dress from goodness knew where, a simple, short a-line in soft pastels on cotton. Given the heat of the day, she also wore sandals and carried a capacious, beige linen tote. With a dash of makeup to ice the cake, she looked good enough to eat. She walked up to him with a sashay in her step, her hand reaching out to stroke over his smooth cheeks and chin.  
“Will I do?” He asked, willing his libido to settle down.  
“You look good enough for me to want to drag you back into the truck and do wicked things with you.” Her purr made his insides turn to mush and perked up his flagging libido. With a final sweep of her smooth thumb over his lips she nodded her approval and they set off to walk the short distance into downtown Silver City.   
They walked slowly along the footpath, hands joined, as casual as if they truly were tourists taking in the old world charm of the trees and clapboard houses, the cracked concrete road and general air of decay.   
The main street was short with a couple of automotive business down one side, along with an emergency fire station and a library, while the other housed the hub of the town, its post office, bank and eatery – The Hood.  
“You sure this place isn't deader than a dodo?” Mitch hissed under his breath. “I've been in livelier graveyards than this!”  
“Shut up and keep walking.” Jamie hissed back. “The eatery at least comes highly recommended.”  
They reached the aforementioned establishment. Several tables had been set up outside, along with orange and white cones to partition the seating away from the road. A number of people were enjoying the sunshine, drinking or eating, dressed in various combinations of Lycra. Apparently the bike trail was proving a hit. They went inside. After the bright sunlight it took a moment for their eyes to adjust. The place was small, not surprisingly, and the white walls decorated with an eclectic mix of memorabilia, autographed metal car bonnets, Budweiser advertising and old LP slip jackets. It was clean with a number of small tables down both walls with red vinyl chairs and a bar at the end. A few customers sat at tables and music warbled from a jukebox near the bar.   
Mitch and Jamie advanced on the bar, smiling at the patrons as they passed. Given the informality of the place, Mitch thought his leather jacket would have fitted in perfectly.   
“Can I help you folks?”   
“A cold beer, for starters.” Mitch asked. “Make that two.”  
“We're a bit limited at the moment, what with the delivery being late.”  
“We'll have whatever you've got.”  
The beer poured and paid for, they chose an empty table and sat down.  
“When are you going to ask about Elvis?” Jamie whispered.  
Downing half of his beer, Mitch didn't answer right away, just looked around the small space, acknowledging nods and smiles when they were sent his way. “Friendly here, aren't they?”  
Jamie did her own reconnoiter and found herself nodding and smiling as well. “They sure are. Don't they know what's going on in the world?”  
Mitch shrugged. “This far from the barrier, they probably think nothing at all. Ready for another one?” He indicated her barely touched beer.  
“I'll nurse this one for a bit, thank you.”  
Downing the rest of his, Mitch got up from the table and approached the bar again. Jamie sipped at her drink and tried to relax her tense shoulders. One of the people at the next table over turned around in their chair.  
“What brings you to Silver City, miss?”  
Jamie blinked at the woman and thought fast. “Oh. My husband and I wanted to do the cycle trail as part of our honeymoon.” Jamie started to warm to her story. “And we'd heard how pretty this part of the trail was, so came here to, sort of, check it out.”  
“Your honeymoon? Congratulations to you both.” Not waiting for Jamie to reply, the woman turned back to her companions to pass on that titbit of gossip.   
Mitch returned with two glasses in his hand, despite the fact that Jamie had barely touched hers yet. As he sat down, the woman behind him turned and offered him her hand to shake, the rest of her friends doing the same, offering their hearty congratulations to the happy pair. Mitch didn't quibble and accepted the hand shakes and broad smiles politely. When the women had returned to their table he leaned forward.  
“What the hell was all that about?”  
“She asked what we were doing here, so I told her we were on our honeymoon.” Affecting a diffident expression, she continued to delicately sip her beer. Mitch kept up his intense expression for a second longer then dissolved into a soft laugh. “Honeymoon, huh? Truly something to celebrate, Mrs. Morgan. Just as well she didn't notice you're not wearing a ring!”  
He watched a blush rise up her face, chinking his second glass of beer against her first before downing half of it in short order.   
When he had slaked his thirst for cold beer he spoke again. “I've made contact with Elvis.”  
“Who is it?” Jamie asked, looking around at the patrons.   
“Behind the bar. He says what he has to give us is in his rooms above.” He pointed to the ceiling. “But we'll have to come back after the place closes, to collect it.”  
“And when will that be?” Jamie asked, sweetly.  
“About one in the morning.” Mitch shrugged. “It's karaoke night.”

x x x x x x

They stayed and had a meal, then left The Hood and wandered a bit more about the small township, taking in some of the oddities, as you'd expect from a couple of tourists. Walking back along main street they passed the workshops, now with several cars parked outside. There was no evidence of a gas station, but one of the buildings had a mini-tanker parked beside it. Given the interest the town had in Nascar racing that was no real surprise.   
At length they returned to their truck and changed into more sensible clothes before settling in to wait until the appointed time. When it was full dark they slowly drove through some of the back roads to park at the rear of the small string of main street buildings. One was almost derelict which made for a great cover. With the windows down they could hear the music from the karaoke, along with some discordant singing, making them both smile.   
“I'm glad we didn't stay to take part in that,” said Jamie. “You do not want to hear me sing.”  
Mitch chuckled. “I've been known to carry a tune, not in public, mind you. I can even strum a guitar.”  
Jamie looked at him. “Just chock full of hidden talents, aren't you! Maybe I wasn't so far off when I called you a lead singer.”  
Mitch gave her a crooked grin. “I said, not in public. Maybe I'll give you a private performance some time.”  
Jamie looked at him for a long moment. “I'd like that.”  
The music suddenly got loud, then cut off. They watched someone stagger into the newly made beer garden at the back of the building and lean against the fence. The man let out a gusty sigh and noisily relieved himself, cursing when some of the stream hit a fence paling and splashed back on him.  
“Well that's attractive.” Mitch muttered.  
The man staggered back into the building, the door once more letting out a blare of music, along with the sound of whoops and clapping, abruptly shut off as the door slammed shut. 

The sounds of cars revving and people calling out 'goodnight' woke Mitch from a light doze. A quick check of the dashboard clock showed the time to be bang on one in the morning.   
“Glad they keep to the schedule.” He said, stretching to wake up fully, the roar of several cars leaving in all directions indicating the patrons were on their way home. One or two of the cars decided to do a little hooning and made the most of the wide concrete roadway, leaving their mark in tire rubber before screaming off down a side road. Obviously there were advantages to not having a police presence this late at night.   
They waited a further fifteen minutes until the street was well and truly quiet, then locked up the truck and walked to the gate leading into the beer garden, and the back door of The Hood. While they waited for Elvis to let them in, Mitch had a sudden thought.   
“Look. Why don't you stay out here and watch our backs. I'll get whatever Elvis has to pass on, and I'll meet you here straight after.”  
Jamie gave him a hard look, her lips thinning as she considered. At length she simply nodded and slipped along the building to stand in the shadows cast by the unopened umbrellas stuck in the picnic tables. In her dark clothing she became invisible to the casual observer.   
A second later the door opened and light spilled out, spotlighting Mitch. Jamie couldn't see the person inside, and didn't move to do so. She'd learnt many skills in her years hunting the Shepherds, concealment being an early one.   
“So, what have you got for me?” Mitch asked, his voice pitched low but clear enough for her to hear. A head finally appeared out of the doorway, scanning the area beyond his visitor.  
“Where's your wife?”  
Mitch gave his trademark shrug, hands jammed in his jacket pockets. “Decided she didn't want to come. Is that a problem?”  
The head disappeared back inside the doorway. “Nope.”  
Watching the shadows, Jamie saw the figure inside the doorway step back to allow his visitor to enter. Mitch didn't turn his head to look at where Jamie stood and walked forward. She mentally gave him the thumbs up. When the door shut, the light disappeared and the yard was once more shrouded in darkness. She didn't move, a sixth sense keeping her rooted to the spot. Sure enough her patience was rewarded when the door opened for a second time, a different person moved into the door way, their head turning to scan the small yard for any hint of anyone else present. If she'd moved, she would have been caught out at once.   
Satisfied that there truly was no one outside, the person turned back inside and shut the door.   
Now she knew there were at least two people in the building, one more than Mitch knew about. Time to find out just what they were up against. She moved now and scoped out access to the second storey. Light was visible at all the windows facing onto the back, but no shadows were evident moving about the rooms. Next she approached the door and listened for any sounds from inside. Hearing nothing she kept close to the building and peered in one of the ground floor windows. The room beyond was pitch dark, probably a store room. The window was bolted on the inside so she left it alone. She climbed the fence and dropped to the other side, flattening herself against the featureless wall that formed the back of the next door. A single storey building butted up against the restaurant but this was also dark and obviously unused, probably only opened as an extension to the other business when they were busy. They'd noticed an alley way that ran between the bank next door and The Hood, so after doing a quick check she jogged around the outside of the beer garden and approached the dark maw of the narrow alley way. After checking that, she confirmed that the only access in or out of the building was through the front entrance or the back door. The front windows on the second storey were boarded up , so the only access from the outside to the upstairs was through the back windows. There was the possibility that a window might look across the roof of the shorter building next door, so she decided to check that out first. Closer inspection revealed a drop-down ladder which obviously could be used in an emergency to escape from the flat roof, or give access to the air-con and chimney. Praying that they kept it maintained, she pulled down the ladder and quickly climbed up it. Fortune favoured the brave, the ladder being well oiled and noiseless. As hoped, the second storey did have windows that opened onto the lower roof, giving access to the second floor of the restaurant. Quietly, hugging the roof edge, she kept out of the pool of light and inched closer to the window, invisible to whoever was inside. The hum of voices became clearer and she crouched down to get as close as possible. 

X x x x x x

Mitch forced himself not to turn and take a last look at where Jamie stood in the shadows. The man, Elvis, had already done a quick check and seen nothing, so Mitch wasn't about to give the game away. The hallway was narrow with boxes and bottle crates stacked against the wall, posters and old calenders decorating the nondescript wall paper. A narrow staircase led to the upper floor, the swing door into the restaurant dark, as you'd expect once it was closed for the night. Mitch didn't see the other two men emerge from the back room, one of them opening the back door to double check the yard.  
The top of the stairs opened onto the second floor, an open living space with all dividing walls removed and just the metal support beams left behind, the walls stripped of their cladding to reveal the brickwork behind.   
“Cozy.” Mitch remarked, noting that the front windows were boarded up, leaving the only exit via the two windows looking out over the back yard. Pieces of furniture were placed around the room, a double bed, two couches, a table and chairs and small kitchenette next to a doorway he assumed led to a bathroom and toilet.   
Elvis indicated the table and chairs and Mitch pulled out on of the red vinyl chairs and sat down. All around the walls of the room were various storage cabinets, book shelves interspersed with more beer posters and framed photos of racing cars.   
“No Mrs. Elvis?” Mitch asked. His taciturn host was rummaging inside one of the cupboards, his back to his visitor.   
“Nope. Ah, found it.” Elvis turned and held out a thumb drive. “Your friends left you this.”  
Mitch took it and immediately put it in his pocket. “Thanks. If that's all, I'll be on my way.”  
Elvis started to shift his weight from one foot to the other, his tongue coming out to wet dry lips. “Um...why the rush. Have a drink?” He moved to the small area that acted as the kitchen and started to open cupboards to pull out glasses and a bottle of something.  
Mitch tensed but kept his seat, sure that something was up, but not ready to precipitate whatever it was.  
Elvis dropped the two glasses onto the table top, one fell on to its side and starting to roll off. Mitch caught it and set it on its base. “You seem nervous. Something the matter?”  
As if on cue, before his host could reply, two men reached the top of the stairwell and advanced into the room.   
“Hey, Elvis. Got company tonight.” The first man stated. His build that of a prize fighter under the baggy sweatshirt.  
The second man said nothing, stalking his way across the room and perching on the arm of one of the sofas, his dark eyes pinned on Mitch like a cat watching a bird. He was similarly built to his partner, the scuffed sleeveless leather vest straining at the buttons over the expanse of chest.   
“You the welcome committee?” Mitch quipped, lifting the glass Elvis had managed to pour despite his shaking hands. It was a fairly good scotch. He drank it all.   
“Nope. We already did that for your friends.” The pugnacious one stated. “We expected you to stop in the city, but you didn't.”  
Mitch looked down at the glass between his fingers, rolling it back and forth. Elvis was now seated on the other side of the table, downing his second glass of scotch.  
“What friends would those be, exactly?” Mitch asked, stalling for time.   
“Jackson Oz, Abraham Kenyatta and their bitches...oh, and one Clementine Lewis...your daughter. She was hot.” Pugnacious explained, his expression not improved by the sneer on his lips.   
Internally, Mitch let out a sigh of relief. Whoever these goons were, they didn't seem to know about little Samuel.   
“Would I be right in thinking you're the henchmen of that crazy queen bitch, Abigail Westbrook?” Mitch spoke in a reasonable tone, so the question took a second to sink in. When it did the second man leapt up from the arm of the couch and produced a gun, the single shot hitting the glass in Mitch's hand, shattering it and spraying jagged glass all over the table and the men sitting at it. Mitch clutched at his wrist, blood streaming from his fingers and palm, a knife-like piece of glass sticking into the base of his thumb and bleeding profusely.  
“Holy shit that hurts, you dumb fucker! Now I won't be able to play the violin!” Mitch shouted, pain lancing up his arm.   
The two henchmen exchanged a confused glance. “What the fuck has playing the violin got to do with anything? Pugnacious asked. Elvis was on the floor, scrabbling to get away, blood from various bits of glass shrapnel peppering his face and arms.   
“Nothing,” Mitch answered. “Just giving my partner time to get into position.”  
The men stared at him blankly, then the window shattered behind Mitch and two shots rang out. Both attackers dropped to the floor, howling. One clutched at his shoulder, the other his leg. The sound of breaking glass made Mitch turn around to see Jamie clearing the window sill before climbing nimbly into the room.   
“You okay?” she asked, gun still aimed at the bad guys.  
“Just a scratch. Nice shooting, Tex.” He took the length of cloth she held out and wrapped it around his hand. Pugnacious was now eyeballing Jamie with loathing.  
“You shot me, you bitch!”  
Mitch smirked. “Nothing gets past you, big guy.”  
Jamie lowered her gun to point it at another part of the man's anatomy. “Keep being rude to me and I'll give you something to really howl about.”  
Mitch had done a quick visual search of the room and found what he was looking for. “Let's tie them up and get out of here.”  
Within minutes the three men, Elvis included, were trussed up and hog tied, as well as gagged. “No point doing all this if they can call for help.” Jamie reasoned. Mitch agreed.   
They made sure neither injured man would bleed out before turning their attention to Elvis, laying a little way away. Jamie crouched down and rolled the man onto his back. It was not the most comfortable of positions.  
“Is this the right thumb drive, is this all our friends left for us?” Mitch asked him. The man nodded behind his gag, but also made to speak. Jamie moved the gag to allow him to do so.  
“I'm sorry I didn't warn you. They arrived not long after you did. Your friends...North. That's all they said. Go north.” As it was clear he had no more to say, he was once more gagged. Elvis rolled onto his side and sagged against the floor boards.   
“Time to go.” Mitch announced, casting one more look around the room. At the last moment he snagged the half empty bottle of scotch, then he and Jamie took the stairs to the ground floor, ran out the back door, leaving it open behind them. They jogged as quickly and silently as they could to the truck and climbed aboard, with Jamie in the driving seat. Within moments they were rumbling down a side street, heading out of town.  
“Shit this stings.” Mitch complained, hissing when he made to unwrap the makeshift bandage.   
“Leave it.” Jamie told him. “First safe place I'll see if it needs stitches and re-wrap it. For now it's better off stopping the bleeding.”  
“Hey, I'm the doctor in this partnership.”  
“And have you suddenly become left handed?” Jamie shot back.  
“Dammit.”

x x x x x x


	4. Where I lay my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See previous installments for summary. Chapter contains naughty things between consenting adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: I am not a doctor or medical person, so any mistakes of a medical nature are all my own.

“Ouch.”  
“Don't be a baby. The local is working fine.”  
“You're puckering the skin.”  
“I'm not.”  
“That knot is loose.”  
“It isn't.”  
“Why is this taking so long?”  
“If you fidget, I'll stab you.”  
Silence reigned for a precious few minutes, then a gust of air from her squirming patient wafted the hairs at the top of her bent head. She ignored the fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm on his thigh that she could see out of the corner of her eye.   
“There. All done.” She announced moments later. Her work was instantly inspected, the hand carefully replaced once given a thorough check over.  
“Happy now?” She asked, pushing back the magnifying goggles. The cut had been deeper than either of them had thought, cutting through flesh, tendons and delicate nerves. “You know you make a rotten patient.”  
Mitch sighed gustily but lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. “You do good work, Mrs. Morgan.” Now he grinned at the rosy blush blooming over her cheeks.   
“I've learnt a thing or two. Had to sew myself up a few times over the years.”   
“Of which I am heartily grateful. Is there anything you cannot do, Jamie Campbell?” He teased.  
Jamie ignored him and started to put her used instruments into a tray, to be sterilized later. Stripping off her bloody gloves, she snapped on a clean pair and drew over a tray of bandaging.  
“Try and keep still, this time.” She instructed, peeling the wrapping off a non-stick dressing pad.  
Mitch watched as she dressed the wound with the minimum of fuss, then wrapped it expertly. Only when she produced a sling did he baulk, leaning back and holding his hands up in surrender. “No sling, thank you. There's nothing wrong with my arms.”  
Jamie sighed. “If you won't wear a sling, then at least wear a wrist cast to stop you using that thumb until it is healed.” She held up a blue, Velcro, temporary cast for him to inspect.   
“Okay. I'll go with the cast, but only until it stops hurting.” Mitch conceded, putting on the proffered piece of equipment. It instantly made his arm heavy and cumbersome. He opened his mouth to complain but Jamie beat him to it.  
“It's the cast, or the sling? Choose!”  
Mitch shot her a tight smile, his eyes narrowed at being forced to wear anything at all. “Fine.”  
Jamie met his grimace with a sweet smile and a kiss. “For being a good boy.” She explained, ignoring the disgruntled look on her lover's face when it ended too soon for his liking. 

They were parked in a lay-by, shielded from the road by a thick screening of trees and straggling shrubs. Mitch had suffered the intense throbbing in his hand while they made their escape from Silver City and put a fair amount of distance between them and the minions of Abigail. When they finally found somewhere to stop, his lips were pressed tight together with a white line around them. Jamie hurriedly prepared and administered a local anaesthetic, Mitch grateful when the drug quickly took effect.   
Now he shifted restlessly on the mattress, trying to find the best position that would allow him to sleep and not roll onto his injured hand. The local was starting to wear off and his hand felt like it was swollen to twice its normal size. Jamie returned from packing away the medical supplies and handed him a couple of pills and a cup of water.   
“Here. Take these, you'll be feeling the effects pretty soon when the local wears off.”  
Mitch took the offerings and downed them, followed by the whole cup of water. “Thanks.”  
He shifted again, ending up on his back with his hand resting on his stomach. “Are we far enough away to risk a nap?”  
“Not as far as I'd have liked. You need to rest...”  
“So do you.” Mitch interrupted her. “Just an hour or so.”  
Jamie had to admit to herself that she was tired, and the lay-by was pretty sheltered.  
“Okay. But not much more than that. We need to find a route north, one the bad guys aren't going to figure out too quickly.”  
“Sure, sure...just an hour or three. Now, come here....wife.”  
Jamie shut and locked the back door before coming to settle against his left side, careful to avoid his injury. Soon they were both asleep, the world outside as calm and quiet as the grave. 

X x x x x

Mitch awoke to the repeated noise of someone banging on the side of the unimog. Sunshine was seeping through one of the closeable vents, high up in the ceiling of the truck, telling him that the night was a long time gone.  
“What the hell?” he made to move then stilled when his injured hand reminded him it had just had some surgery on it. “Dammit, Jamie why didn't you wake me.” He grumbled to himself as he sat up and pulled his shirt over. It was a struggle for a few moments to get the sleeve over the temporary cast, but he was soon buttoning it up. Before he got the last button fastened, the back door was swung open and bright light hit him full in the face. Holding up his good hand, he shielded his eyes and tried to make out who was standing outside.   
“Jamie?”  
“Do I look like a missus?” A deep growl asked him, obviously male.  
“I don't know, I can't see you.” Mitch couldn't resist firing back, his stomach clenching as he instantly worried about where Jamie was. “Who the hell are you? And where's Jamie?” He blinked hastily and the darkened shape resolved into a tall, broad-shouldered man about his age with a shock of orange hair and beard to match.   
“Why don't you get yourself down here, Dr. Morgan and we'll be able to answer all your questions more easily.”   
Mitch ignored the proffered hand and jumped down to the dusty ground, instantly regretting it as it jarred his injury making him grimace in pain.  
“See, you didn't have to do that and go cause yourself unnecessary hurt.” The man chided.  
Mitch looked around, searching to another red head. “Where are we?” As he squinted in the bright light, he took note of the number of buildings surrounding where the unimog was parked.   
“On a farmstead, just outside of Turin.” The man explained. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Morgan.”  
The man held out his hand. Mitch hesitated and held up his injured right hand.   
“Sorry. Out of action. And how do you know me?”  
The man laughed. “From your lovely lady, of course. Come into the house. Jamie said you had a hankering for a hot shower?”  
Mitch followed the hulking farmer's plaid covered back up a couple of steps onto a covered verandah and through a screen door. After the bright sun, the interior was dark and gloomy, until he blinked his eyes and the room brightened appreciatively.   
“Mitch!” A familiar voice called his name and he swung towards it. A slender body pressed up against him and wrapped him in a tight hug.   
“How are you feeling? I have some more painkillers for you to take.” Jamie rattled on while Mitch tried to gather his wits. He could smell her hair and bent down to kiss her head, his left arm looped around her shoulders.   
“You've had a shower?” he observed. “You smell good.”  
Jamie laughed up at him. “Is that your way of saying I smelt bad before?”  
Mitch relaxed enough to smile back. “No. Just a little confused right now. You didn't wake me.”  
Jamie tugged him further into the front room, their truck easily visible beyond the big windows.  
“I thought you could use the rest. You've met Jim, and this is his wife Peggy. Oh, and their dogs – Pig, Bran and...I forget..” Three mongrel mixed breeds tumbled around their legs, barking and wagging tails in a furious melee of doggy attention seeking.   
“Rosy.” Jim supplied. “Sit yourself down for a minute, Dr. Morgan. I'll go rustle up some towels for you.”  
A woman entered the room, on a par with her husbands age, she was tall, brunette and comfortably dressed in jeans and denim shirt. “Good to see you up and about, Mitch.”  
Jamie reached up and closed Mitch's mouth which was hanging inelegantly open in shock.  
“Maggie Clark!” Mitch barked. “Hell...this is where you've been hiding?”  
The woman formerly known as Maggie shook her head and sat down. “Not hiding, Mitch. Jim and I decided to settle here after spending half our married life moving about the world.”  
Mitch still looked confused. “But that's not the man you left with...”  
Maggie, now Peggy. laughed. “Good spotting, Mitch. Jeff only made it as far as Thailand before bugging out. I met Jim there, and the rest is history.”  
The man mentioned appeared in the doorway. “All ready for you, Dr. Morgan. Did you want anything from the truck to take in with you?”  
Mitch gaped at the mountain of a man. Jamie jumped up instead. “I'll fetch his gear.” And shot out the front door leaving Mitch breathless and still open mouthed.  
“Poor Mitch, you look like you've been run over,”said Peggy, patting him on the thigh and getting to her feet.   
“I'm just a bit surprised. The last I heard from you was a postcard from China.”  
Peggy nodded. “The Panda refuge, yes that was some time ago. Of course I'm aware of some of your history. You and your team were all over the news after you cured the animals. Jamie was kind enough to sign my copy of her book.”  
Mitch gave her a half smile. “Seems like a hundred years ago.”  
Jamie came back through the front door and dropped a bundle into his lap. “I think I got everything. I'll change the dressing when you get out.”  
Mitch accepted the bundle and followed Maggie's, no Peggy's husband, Jim down the hall to a spacious bathroom at the back of the house.   
“Call out if you need anything.” Jim waved him in and shut the door behind him. Mitch stared around at the luxury for a moment before dumping his gear on the toilet seat.  
He was going to enjoy this.

X x x x x

Mitch emerged later feeling like a new man. His hair squeaked, his face was as smooth as a babies' back side and he smelt pretty damn good. He carried his dirty clothes under his arm. Something smelled tasty and his nose led him to the dining room where Jamie and Jim sat on opposite sides of the table, chatting like old friends. Seeing Mitch in the doorway, Jaime jumped up.  
“How was your shower?” Jim asked, his beard split with a very white grin.  
“Heaven on Earth.” Mitch replied. Jamie took his bundle and hurried out of the room.  
“Hey?” Mitch called after her.  
“Don't worry, she's probably gone to chuck them in with another load of laundry.” Jim explained, indicating for Mitch to take a seat. He chose the one next to where Jamie had been sitting.   
Jim poured him a glass from a frosted pitcher, the contents cloudy, giving him a broad wink as he did so. “We're saving the good stuff for later. Wouldn't want to spoil your meal.”  
Mitch smiled halfheartedly, not entirely sure how to deal with his jovial host. Peggy and Jamie entered the room together, both carrying platters and serving bowls. Mitch made to stand up, but Peggy waved him down. “Don't worry, Jamie and me have it covered.”  
He watched as the two women fetched and carried a couple more times until the table groaned under its burden of food and dishes.   
“We usually have our main meal of the day at noon.” Peggy explained. “We're often up with the dawn, so having a substantial meal in the middle of the day makes more sense than going to bed early on a full stomach.”  
Jamie came in with a tray and sat on the other side of Mitch.  
“Let me see that hand.” Mitch hadn't put the temporary cast back on, so it was a simple matter to unwind the damp bandaging and take off the pad.   
“It's looking clean and tidy.” Jamie pronounced, her brow furrowed as she turned his hand over and back to inspect it from all sides. Mitch watched her as she smeared some antiseptic ointment on the new non-stick pad and then carefully re-wrapped his hand. He was so focused on her he didn't realise he had an interested audience.  
“Do I have to wear the cast thing?” he groused, hating how heavy it was.   
“Can you promise not to waggle your thumb and break the stitches?” Jamie retorted. Mitch shook his head, so she replaced the cast on his hand and tightened the Velcro straps.  
“There, all done.” Jamie announced.  
They both looked up at the same time and caught Peggy and Jim watching them with some amusement.   
Mitch raised his eyebrows. “What?” 

x x x x x x

Jim had to go and do farming stuff, as Peggy called it, while his wife stayed back and caught up with her old University friend and Jamie. She entertained them with anecdotes from some of her adventures with Jim, touching briefly on their grief at not having started a family earlier, but extolling the virtues of rural life in the tiny hamlet where they lived now. Jamie offered up a potted history of her escapades since the publication of her book and then Mitch summarized his life since curing the first animal mutation. He skirted around his time in the tank, and his time as Abigail Westbrook's tame whatever-he'd-been. He asked Peggy questions about what they'd heard locally about hybrids and the like, but there hadn't been much news about them.   
“There had been reports further west of cattle killings and other livestock slaughters, the closer you got to the barrier, but nothing near here. Nobody I know, other than yourselves, have even seen a picture of a hybrid, let alone one in the flesh.”  
Mitch nodded. “Where do you source your water?”  
Peggy let out a laugh. “We surrounded by the stuff. We have the Maple river to the west, the Little Sioux to the east. We collect rainwater off the sheds and house gutters and we have a bore around back.”  
Again Mitch nodded. “Does your laundry have a sink bench?”  
Peggy gave him an arch look. “Better than that, we have an old dairy in one of the out buildings. If you're going to blow things up, you can do it out there.”  
Jamie laughed. “He only did that once, and no one was hurt even then.”  
“I also need a sample of each of your water sources, while we at it.” Mitch added.  
“I can get the ones from the river...” Jamie offered.  
“Help yourself to whatever is around here. Can I ask what you're looking for?” said Peggy.   
“I won't know until I have some stuff set up to test it. I'll let you know if I get any results.” Mitch kept the truth to himself, not wanting to scare his friend unnecessarily. 

X x x x x 

In the dairy, later that night, Mitch sat on a stool with his arms folded while he waited for the centrifuge to do its thing. It was almost like being back in his lab, having all his gizmo's and gadgets around him. Jim had set up a series of cabling and multiboxes, so he had everything available to use, even a computer screen to display his results.   
Earlier on, Jamie had driven the truck and trailer into an empty barn to avoid any curious locals snooping around the strange vehicle. She had also pulled out the CB radio and hooked it up to Jim and Peggy's UHF aerial, boosting the signal significantly. They had yet to try and contact the team.   
He reached for the mug with his left hand, only to find the half drunk coffee cold. Putting it back down he misjudged the edge of the bench and the mug dropped to the floor, cracking into three pieces and spilling dark liquid all over the floor.   
“Crap!” He threw a cloth from the sink on to the widening mess.  
“Having fun?” Peggy's voice made him jump in surprise.   
“Sorry, just broke your mug. Not used to using my left hand for everything.”   
“Don't apologize, it's just a mug. Making any progress?” She approached his work bench and peered at the multitude of equipment winking, blinking and whirring.   
“I can tell you that your well water and tank water are both clean and good to drink.”  
Peggy waited for him to continue. “ And?”  
“Well, I'd avoid drinking or eating anything from any of the rivers.”  
She waited again, but it was like drawing teeth. “Because?”  
Mitch sighed and rubbed at his eyes, taking his glasses off to do so. “Look. We didn't tell you everything, because everything is pretty bad. On our way here we found that several water supplies have become contaminated with...something. Part of this...” He indicated all the testing equipment. “Is to try and find out exactly what the contaminant it. I haven't established whether it is animal, vegetable or mineral. All I do know is it probably killed an entire herd of cattle just outside Denver, and is present in the rivers between there and here in varying percentage of concentration.”  
“What will this...contaminant...do to people who drink it?” Peggy asked.  
“I don't know. Maybe nothing, or maybe something. It may only affect some animals and not all. I'm hoping to find a filter that will allow the water to be drinkable and treatable, but for now, don't touch it, don't swim in it, wash in it, anything in it.”  
“What about our crops?” Jim's deep voice boomed from the doorway. “We draw up the river water to irrigate our fields.”  
Mitch twisted around to face the big man. “I simply don't know. If there was a choice, I'd say don't use it on any food source.”  
“But you don't know if it's harmful to humans?”   
“No, Jim. I don't. I only know what I've seen before when hybrid DNA is mixed with human. It wasn't pretty. And this contaminant is like nothing I've seen before. It defies classification.” Mitch put his glasses back on and peered at the read out on one of the machines.   
Jim and Peggy exchanged a worried glance. Jamie entered the room and went to stand beside Mitch.   
“Mitch hasn't mentioned it, so I will. You also want to look at strengthening the fences around the house and out buildings. They need to be much higher and strong enough to stop a big mammal. Electrified would be even better.”  
Peggy let out a nervous laugh. “Now you're just trying to frighten us.”  
Jamie continued. “I'm deadly serious. If the hybrids that escaped the barrier manage to spread, they will infect every animal they come in contact with, and not for the better. Some of the mutations are pretty wild. The original hybrids can grow as big as a lion, armed with spines like a porcupine, the speed of a greyhound and jaws like a hyena.” Jamie drew in a steadying breath. “If you have sheet metal, make the fence out of that to keep the smaller rodents out. There's not much you can do about the birds except maybe make shutters to protect the windows and strengthen the doors. Enclosing your verandah would also help keep out the larger animals.” Jamie paused and let Mitch take over.   
“Everything she says is the truth. If you have any livestock, watch them carefully for any changes in behaviour. Your dogs especially. If you have a cellar, stock it with as much as possible and make it a safe retreat, proof against any animal getting in.”  
“Mitch, you're really scaring me now. Surely...”  
“I'm sorry Peggy, Jim...but the reality is, if I can't find a cure for what's coming, whether you water your crops or not won't matter. The world as we know it will end. I can't put it any plainer than that.”  
His words fell into a pool of silence. His shocked audience stood stunned at the enormity of the picture he painted. Mitch was even shocked himself. “I'm sorry.” He said again. “We've been moving so fast I hadn't stopped to really think about it all myself. We've just been lurching from one crisis to another, making it up as we went along, trying to get ahead of whatever Abigail could come up with next.”  
Jamie placed her hands on his shoulders and he covered one of them with his uninjured hand.  
“We'll find a cure, we have to,” she said softly, kissing the top of his head. “Anything else is unthinkable.”  
The silence between the four people lengthened until Peggy spoke up.  
“Okay. So the end of the world is coming. Not the first time I've heard that, probably won't be the last. All I do know is, it won't be tonight. We go early to bed in the country, and I think you two would benefit as well. I've made up the spare room, so I suggest you secure the equipment, switch off the lights and come and have a nightcap.” She nodded to her husband who left the dairy to start preparing to lock up for the night.   
“I'll go get our things from the truck.” Jamie announced, leaving Peggy and Mitch alone.   
Mitch bent down and picked up the broken mug, putting the fragments in the metal sink to dispose of later. Peggy came over to lean her hip against the bench, her arms folded.   
“I remember you as a bit of a cynical bastard who didn't so much as run from the vagaries of life as drown them in a good bottle of scotch. Not so easy to do that now.”  
Mitch gave a snort of derisive laughter. “Nope. Now I have a grown up daughter, a hostile son-in-law, a grandson and I have Jamie.”  
“Quite a family. A lot to lose, if things work out the way you just described.” Peggy dipped her head to better see Mitch's expression.   
“You always did cut to the heart of the matter, Peggy.” Mitch met her concerned gaze with a smile. “I think the idea of an early night sounds just fine. Plus Jamie hasn't told me how she got us here.”  
Peggy allowed him, his deflection and smiled broadly. “Magic, mixed messages, and plain dumb luck.”  
She told him. “But I'm sure Jamie will tell it better.”

x x x x x

Mitch tested the beds springs by sitting on the edge in his boxers and a t-shirt and bouncing up and down. Despite his bouncing the bed remained mercifully quiet. Jamie emerged from the small en-suite and stopped just inside the room.   
“What are you doing?”  
“Testing the bed springs.”  
“Because?”  
“To see if they squeak. They don't.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and winked.   
“Good to know.” She padded around the side and climbed under the covers, switching off the bedside lamp before snuggling down. “This is nice.” She sighed  
Mitch pulled back the covers and got in as well. Taking off his glasses, he put them on the table beside him and switched off the matching lamp. Wriggling his way under the covers, he turned on his side to face the center of the bed and propped his head on his knuckles, careful not to put any pressure on his thumb.   
“So you were telling me how you happened to end up here?”  
“Where did I get to?”  
“Running low on fuel.”  
“Oh, yes. So I'd navigated a route via the back roads as far as Moorhead. A slightly bigger fly speck than where we left.”  
“They had a gas station?”  
Jamie snorted. “I wish. No, just a few shops, a mini-mart and some local eateries, nothing flash.”  
Mitch let the silence persist for all of ten seconds. “And?”  
“I pulled into a lay-by and proceeded to refuel. Unfortunately there was little to screen me from the road and inevitably a truck passed by. It stopped and backed up. This great tall guy stepped out with this shock of red hair and started to shout at me.”  
“Jim.”  
“Yeah. He came running over, all excited and said, “Jamie Campbell, as I live and breath!” Which is not entirely unusual. Not so many years ago I was all over the chat shows promoting my book and the sequel.”  
“You wrote a sequel?”  
“Another time, Mitch. I want to get some sleep tonight.”  
“Sorry. So you thought he was just another fan?”  
“Yeah. Kinda. He was very excited and started going on about his wife and how she was a huge fan and would I come with him to Turin to sign her copy. When he explained it was only about fifteen minutes down the road, I thought – what the hell. After you looked past his wild man appearance, he wasn't so bad. Certainly an improvement on what we encountered in Silver City.”  
“So then you met Maggie...er...Peggy.”  
Jamie smiled. “I sure did. She was even more surprised than Jim to see me, but very pleased. Instantly wanted to know what I was doing in such an outlandish vehicle, and what was I doing in it all alone.”  
“Which is when you told her about me.”  
“Yeah. Boy, was she surprised when she found out who was hiding in the back of the truck.”  
“I wasn't hiding, I was...not awake.”  
Jamie smiled up at his frowning expression. “Very true. Sleeping like a babe when we checked on you.” She chuckled.   
“And now we're sleeping in a sinfully comfortable bed, safe and sound and clean in the process.”  
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Your point being?”  
Not bothering to answer, he simply leant down and covered her lips with his, drinking deep and drawing a moan from his lover when he made to pull back. Encouraged by the fingers now digging into his scalp, Mitch returned to the pleasure of kissing Jamie Campbell, his good hand wandering lower to explore the delights under the silky camisole she wore. Soon, all thought of sleep was abandoned along with the few items of clothing, scattered like leaves on the floorboards beside the bed.   
Mitch found himself pressed into the mattress, his mouth still fully occupied in dalliance with Jamie's tongue, while she straddled him, cool fingers guiding him to her moist center, their joining of heated flesh wringing a groan from both of them.   
“God, that feels so good.” Mitch gasped while Jamie lifted herself then slowly drew him back in, riding him deeply. She bent down and kissed his scarred torso, drawing an undamaged nipple between her teeth and making him push his head back into the pillows, arching under her in pleasure. Her busy tongue lapped at his throat, her teeth nibbled his chin until they once more melded mouth to mouth, his good arm wrapping around her waist while he drew his knees up to deepen his thrusts. He sat up enough to engulf a pert breast, his tongue now tormenting her, little nips of his teeth making her writhe against him, all rhythm lost.   
“God. Yes.” Was all she managed in between shuddering breaths, her arms looping around his neck to pull him flush against her chest, his mouth worshiping her breasts as her hips ground against his lap.   
It was heady stuff, and the bed remained silent throughout.   
Minutes, or maybe hours later, Jamie stiffened above him, her body wracked with tiny shivers, her internal muscles gripping him tightly, milking him for her own pleasure. He held her loosely, mouth pressed to her throat, feeling her hum as she enjoyed her climax. They paused while she came down, her formerly tense muscles all relaxing in bliss as she melted against him.  
Mitch was still hard, encased snugly in her body, surrounded by heat. With a boneless lover in his arms, he moved so that she was on her side facing him. He drew up her leg over his hip, opening her and giving him more access. He started to move, slow at first then faster. All the time watching her flushed face, drowning in her eyes while her fingers danced over his face, traced the outline of his ears.  
“..love you..” he gasped, sinking himself into her as his own peak washed over him, shuddering in completion, his hand gripping her smooth thigh, keeping them connected.   
In the aftermath he sank blissfully into the mattress, slipping from her body when he rolled onto his back, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Jamie lifted his arm so she wasn't squashing his injured hand and snuggled against his side, her head nestled under his chin.   
“Damn, we're good together..” Mitch breathed, kissing the tousled head.  
“We are that.” Jamie murmured against his skin. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her cheek, the thread of life strong and sure. “Were you telling the truth when you said you haven't identified the contaminant?”  
“Not entirely. Calling it a spore is not really correct, it's more like a micro-organism, a Nanite if you like. If I had a permanent lab set up I could culture it and see what happens and how long it takes, but being on the move is proving challenging even keeping it alive.”  
“So it is a living thing, not mechanical?”  
“Oh yes, this whatever-it-is, is certainly alive. One thing I've noticed is my original samples are more active than ones taken from the local rivers.”  
“Could that have anything to do with the distance from the barrier and original dispersal?” Jamie asked.  
Mitch chuckled. “There you go being all science'y again.”  
“Been hanging around you too long, obviously.” Jamie fired back, pulling a short hair on his chest.   
“Ow?”  
They lapsed into silence, listening to each other breath, the night sounds outside the house muted and distant. Just a Jamie felt herself slip into a doze, Mitch spoke again.  
“You know...If we do find another cure for both the mutation and sterility, save the world again...”  
“Yeah?”  
“What would you say if we find our own little hamlet, and enjoy a peaceful life?”  
“And do what?”  
“I could potter in my laboratory and publish articles about microbes and mutations. You could write more best selling books. We could collect a whole pack of dogs, farm chickens and grow greens...something like that.”  
Jamie sighed, twirling some of his chest hair into a peak. “You'd be bored in a month.”  
“I don't know. Given the pace of life since you and Clem rescued me from that tank, I think I could go a little boredom right now.”  
“When we've saved the world...again...we'll revisit this, okay?”  
“Sure.”  
This time the silence remained, both succumbing to the lure of a warm bed, a relaxed body and someone they loved close by. 

x x x x x


	5. A Break In The Traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Refer previous chapters for summary. Rated for intimate relations between lovers. Mentions of other team members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: So far... I'm not a scientist, not a police officer, not a doctor or medical person, and now I'm not a crop farmer either. (and I've never used a CB Radio in my life, although I did have a boyfriend who had one)

“Calling anyone listening on this frequency...” Jamie thumbed the hand set, fiddled with one of the knobs and tried again. “Can anyone here me, anyone listening on this frequency. Over?”  
They had plugged the radio receiver into the mains and into the extended aerial that morning.  
“Jackson, Tess are you listening?” Her frustration was starting to show. She'd been trying to raise someone for an hour now. Mitch had left her to carry on his research in the dairy-now-laboratory. Jim had been gone before they even got up, and Peggy was already out in her vegetable patch, weeding furiously.  
Jamie tried again, tweaking the signal before lifting the handset.  
“Is anyone out there with their ears on. Over.”  
The receiver remained infuriatingly silent. She reached out and picked up the thumb drive, given to them by Elvis back in Silver City. Mitch had suggested they watch it later that morning, but it was already eleven and if she knew Mitch at all, he would be oblivious to time, engrossed in his samples and other doohickey's. Fed up with the radio, she pulled over her lap-top and plugged in the drive.  
Accessing her file manager, she perused the contents of the portable drive, seeing a couple of video files as well as purely text and data folders.  
Opening the first video file she smiled to see Abe's familiar face, alongside Dariela's, the pair of them obviously outside somewhere, sitting at a table.  
“Hey guys. The good news is, we have Samuel, safe and sound. His few hours in Abigail's care have done him no harm that we can see. Clementine has checked him over from head to two and can't find anything that looks like an injection, other than the one I gave him. On another good note, we were in time to give him his second dose of the serum.” The point of view of the camera turned and Clementine came into view, baby Samuel cuddled close to her chest, the young woman obviously feeding her son. “Clem!” Abe's voice drew the girls attention and she waved. “Hey, Dad...Jamie.” Then the point of view changed again, back to Abe and Dariela. “As you can see both mother and child are doing well.” Dariela exchanged a look with Abe before starting to speak. “We're going to stop off and see Sam at Fort Brennan before we start out for Omaha. If he's well enough, we'll take him with us. We secured some other transport...” the camera panned to the left and was a bit shaky before it focused on a trio of armored vehicles.  
One looked like an eight-wheeled Stryker infantry carrier, with a fifty caliber M2 gun mounted on a turret. The second appeared to also be an infantry carrier, but without the gun and only six wheel, plus a four wheel trailer behind. The third was a modified four wheel Humvee, heavily armored but no visible weaponry.  
The camera panned back to Abe, Dariela no longer beside him. “As you can see, we've tried to prepare for anything. If we are able to collect Sam, then we'll be heading to Omaha, and hope to meet up with you there.” The image scrambled then went black. Jamie clicked on the next video. Again, Abe appeared first, this time he was filming somewhere inside a building. “I hope you were able to get Tess's message over the radio. Things went a bit crazy in Omaha, and we had to leave in a hurry. We didn't end up collecting Sam. He's still critical and he's better off behind the walls of Fort Brennan, than on the road with us. We lost one of our vehicles, the Humvee, when we were attacked by friends of Abigail.” Abe waved a hand in front of the screen. “Don't worry, Clem and the baby are fine. The men didn't get to see the baby at all, and we got away clean....mostly.” Something drew his attention away from the screen, his gaze focused on something, or someone beyond the lap top. “I'm coming!” he said, then looked back into the lap top camera. “We're not staying long at any one place, any more. Samuel has had the last dose of the serum, and all looks well for now. Elvis is an old safari buddy of mine and Jackson, so we trust him to give this thumb drive to you when you get to Silver City.” Again Abe looked away from the camera. “We're heading north from here on in. We need to get ahead of the hybrid wave and find some sort of authority that will allow me to further my research on reversing sterility. We're hoping that Canada will provide what we need.” He then leant forward to put his face closer to the camera. “There was a worrying outbreak at one of the hospitals in Omaha. Some sort of infection or virus was causing a great many people to fall ill. It was all over the local news network. We didn't get involved for obvious reasons, but it was too sudden and indiscriminate not to have Abigail's handiwork all over it. Maybe, Mitch, you can shed some light, or find out what is going on. I have to go now, but we'll keep listening to the radio for your call. Good luck to you both. See you soon in Vancouver.” The clip ended and Jamie shut it down. She opened one or two of the files but it seemed to her to be old information. Mitch would probably know more when he looked at them. Shutting down the lap top she sat at the table and gave free reign to her thoughts.

X x x x x

“Penny for them?”  
Jamie jerked out of her introspection to find Peggy looking down at her. “Sorry, I was miles away.”  
“I could see that. Do you want to go tell Mitch it's time to eat?”  
“Sure.” Jamie rose to her feet. “I'll go prise him away from his toys.” She sent the woman a warm smile, then walked out of the house, down the steps and across the dusty front lawn to where the outbuildings were clustered. The squat building that was the former dairy was only a few steps away. Opening the door, she moved inside, blinking to adjust to the sudden gloom after the bright sunshine.  
“Mitch? Peggy sent me to tell you lunch is nearly ready.” She scanned the small room but her sexy professor wasn't anywhere to be seen. Frowning but not unduly worried, she went out the door on the opposite side of the building. Shading her eyes she could see two men working further along the fence line. Assuming it to be Jim and maybe a farm helper she walked across to speak to them. When she got closer she recognized the second man.  
“Mitch!?”  
“Don't sound so surprised. I can do manual labor when it's needed.” He let go of the six foot length of corrugated metal sheeting, the first piece of the new fencing Jim was installing. Jim appeared from behind it, a pneumatic nail gun in his hand.  
“Think this will keep the critters out?” Jim asked, his teeth white against his red beard.  
“It will certainly make them think twice. Run an electrified wire in front of it, several if you can, and it will deter most of them.”  
Mitch and Jim exchanged a look, then nodded in agreement to Jamie's suggestion.  
“Sounds like a plan.” Jim grunted.  
“You might want to invest in some generators and a fuel tanker, in case the mains goes out.” Jamie added. “But enough shop talk. Peggy has lunch ready.”  
Both men perked up instantly, Mitch peeling off the leather gloves he'd been using.  
“You took off the cast!”  
Mitch glanced down at his bandaged hand and shrugged.  
“Wouldn't fit in the glove.”

Over the midday meal they discussed what they'd need to obtain, to make the house and grounds secure. Jamie also brought Mitch up to date with what she'd seen in the video clips. Mitch instantly pounced on the reports of the outbreak, keen to see and hear what the others knew about it and look at the folders they'd included on the thumb drive. This he did after the meal. Jim went out to carry on with the new fencing, while Jamie helped Peggy. Eventually she wandered into the front room where Mitch sat at the table, using the lap top. Leaving him to catch up, she sat on one of the comfortable chairs and found the remote for the television. Thinking there maybe something on the news about Omaha, she switched it on.  
Immediately the screen was filled with jerky footage, the tag line below advising they were looking at downtown Omaha, where the situation had devolved to rioting. The news reporter was speaking over the images, reporting that all hospitals in the city were at capacity with patients and for people to stay in their houses and await further notice.  
“Oh, my God.”  
Her shocked expletive drew Mitch's attention away from the lap top. He swiveled in the chair to better see the footage. They watched and listened to the reports of looting and chaos over taking the center of the city, sparked by protests, culminating in the national guard being called out, which incited more violence. What few protester had been interviewed seemed to be calling for more help from the central government, a lifting of curfews and about the general shortage of supplies over the whole region.  
“Is this because of the water?” Jamie asked, twisting to face Mitch at the table.  
“Could be. As I can't access the tap water to test it, it may just be a reaction to the current situation.”  
“But the people falling ill? The hospitals over flowing, surely that means something is making them, causing the illness.”  
“True. But without proof, it could be a flu outbreak, or some over outbreak, unrelated to the hybrids.”  
Jamie snorted. “You don't believe that.”  
“No. It probably is something to do with the hybrids escaping through the barrier.”  
They looked at each other for a long moment. Mitch got up and went to leave.  
“I think I'll go give Jim a hand with this new fence.”  
Jamie rose to her feet to follow him. “Yeah. Good idea.”

x x x x x

The four of them, Peggy included, worked on the new fence, the regular thunking sound of the nail gun punctuating the afternoon as they steadily erected each sheet of iron. Towards the end of the afternoon the sound of a vehicle drew their attention to the approach of a man on a farm bike.  
Everyone stopped and turned to watch him walk over to them.  
“Hey, Jim...Peggy.”  
“Good to see you, Ethan. Something I can do for you?” Jim stepped forward, extending his hand to shake the other man's. Ethan shook his hand then waved at the recently erected fence.  
“What's all this about? Know something we don't?” He stared pointedly at Mitch, who stood, leather gloved hands on his hips, relaxed but wary.  
“Just a precaution. Heard some weird stuff on the news.”  
Ethan nodded. “Yeah. Did you see today? Crazy people rioting in Omaha central.” He pointed to the sheeting. “You think this will keep them out?”  
Jim gave a short laugh. “Nope. Not for people.”  
This time Ethan gave a bark of laughter. “You trying to keep animals out?” He looked around at the vast expanse of flat croplands surrounding them. “What animals?”  
Jim looked over at Mitch. “Tell him what you told us.”  
Mitch shuffled his feet and looked at the ground for a moment, marshaling his thoughts. Ethan spoke up before he could.  
“Yeah, friend. What do you know, that I don't?”  
Mitch lifted his head, responding to the slight sneer in the man's voice.  
“You've heard of the hybrids beyond the barrier to the west?” He waited for Ethan to nod. “Well, they've escaped and likely to be spreading out in all directions.”  
Ethan crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. “And you think they're gonna come here? So you're building this fence to keep them out.”  
“Yeah.” Mitch sighed. “And you should probably start stocking up on bottled water and food stuffs.”  
Ethan had obviously taken an instant dislike to Mitch, evident from the sneer in his reply.  
“And I should listen to you, why?” He turned to face Jim. “What bullshit is this, Jim?”  
Jim held up his hands in a placating manner. “Hey, Ethan, you don't have to take my word for it, or his, but something is coming, and we're just making plans. You saw what happened ten years ago, you were here. Well, it's possible it will happen again, so unless you want to uproot everything and every one and make a run for it, I suggest you start thinking about protecting what you have.”  
Ethan had been listening to Jim, but then spotted Jamie behind Mitch. His expression suddenly changed to one of surprise.  
“Hey, I know you. You're that writer, you were all over the TV a few years ago. Jenny Kindle. You wrote a story about animals going crazy.”  
Jamie sighed and stepped forward. “Jamie Campbell, and they weren't crazy, they were mutating.”  
“So you think it's going to happen again?” Ethan address Jamie directly. Mitch lowered his head and contemplated the ground Jamie flicked him a quick look before turning back to face Ethan.  
“I think that pretty soon you'll see animals behaving differently from usual. The hybrids are out there, and whether they get here tomorrow or next month, you are best to be prepared. The one thing we do know about the mutations, the animals are no longer afraid of people and have been known to attack unprovoked and in great numbers.”  
Ethan gave a nervous laugh. “You some sort of expert on these hybrids?”  
Jamie arched an eyebrow. “No. But Mitch is, so I'd listen to him.”  
Mitch raised his head and gave the disbelieving farmer a tight smile and a small hand wave.  
Ethan snorted, unwilling to believe anything that Mitch said. “I think you're all crazy. Jim...Peggy...I'll pass your regards on to Jess and the kids.”  
“Take care, Ethan,” Peggy called after him. “Think about what we said, please?”  
They watched as the man climbed aboard his farm bike and gunned the accelerator, kicking up a spurt of dust as he raced away.  
“That went well.” Mitch quipped, folding his arms across his chest.  
“Ethan is a good man.” Jim defended his friend. “What happened here ten years ago was mostly the domestic animals acting all crazy, dogs barking all the time and cats biting people. None of us saw a hybrid, or mutated weird creature, so it's not surprising he thought you were pulling his leg.”  
Peggy rested a hand on her husbands arm. “I'll go and speak to Jess tomorrow. You know Ethan will listen to her.”  
Jim nodded. “We have a couple of hours before dark, let's make some progress.”

After the encounter with Ethan, the four of them worked even harder until the stars were clear in the darkening sky above them. When they stood back to survey their work, a good half of the farmstead boundary had been filled in with corrugated sheeting, cutting off the view of the flat fields surrounding them. Isolated as the property was on the bend of a Oak road, they couldn't see the lights of Turin, only the distant yellow glow in the sky of the few street lamps lining the main street.  
Jim and Peggy had gone inside, leaving Mitch and Jamie to sit on the two-seater swing on the verandah and enjoy the night sky.  
“It is truly peaceful here,” said Jamie, sighing deeply.  
“If you exclude the neighbors.” Mitch replied acidly.  
“It's that 'acquired taste' thing working for you.” She leant against his shoulder to take the sting out of her words. “Some people are simply not going to believe anything without the proof staring them in the face.”  
Mitch snorted. “Or biting them on the ass.”  
Jamie chuckled. “You did your best. If they choose to believe otherwise, they can't say they weren't warned.”  
“I suppose so.” Mitch let a comfortable silence stretch between them before speaking again.  
“I'm glad Clem and the baby are okay. If Abe can get the use of a lab, he could make significant progress towards a cure for the planet. Wouldn't that be something?”  
Jamie nodded. “And if we can figure out what's happening with the water, that may go a long way to finding a cure for the animals.”  
Mitch found her hand in the darkness, entwined their fingers, and squeezed gently.  
“I've been thinking, we should stay here long enough to get Jim and Peggy set up, then they can always help their neighbors if the shit hits the fan.”  
Jamie grinned at him in the darkness. “You've just fallen in love with that bed.”  
He gave her fingers another squeeze. “And what we do in it.”  
“You always loved that.” Jamie retorted.  
Mitch sighed. “I did. I do.” The silence of the night enveloped them. At length they decided to try the radio again before going up to bed.

“Calling Jackson, can you hear me, come in Jackson. Over.”  
They waited patiently for thirty seconds then tried again.  
“This is Morgan calling Jackson, come in please. Over.”  
Mitch thumbed off the handset. “Nothing.”  
Jamie patted his thigh. “Maybe they're just out of signal range. Maybe their radio set is broken.”  
“Maybe they just don't want to talk to us.” Mitch growled.  
“You know that's not true. Maybe it just not a good time to contact them.” She yawned. “Sorry.”  
Mitch hung up the handset and stood up. “Come on, it's been a long day.”  
After switching off the lights and turning the latch on the front door, they made their way up the stairs to their room. Staring out of the upstairs window, Mitch imagined he could see the lights of Omaha on the horizon. The news reports that evening hadn't been any more helpful, just told of more unrest in the streets, and giving out information for people to stay in their houses, stay off the roads, and settle in until things calmed down. Mitch wanted to scream at the television that it wasn't about to settle down any time soon, that the world was on a collision course with complete chaos, that civilization teetered on the brink of falling into anarchy, with the planet's ecology soon to do everything it could to overthrow the human overlords. Uneasy thoughts to try and sleep on. Hands slid around his waist and a slight body snuggled up against his back.  
“Coming to bed?”  
“Yeah. Give me a minute.”  
The warm body and hands left him and he heard her pad across the carpet to the bed and get in. Taking a last look at the silent landscape surrounding the farm, Mitch turned away from the window and went to join the wonderful woman waiting for him.  
She was the love of his life, he freely acknowledged to himself. Despite the disparity in their backgrounds, upbringings, ages and career paths, they had somehow come together, shared unimaginable perils, come back from the brink of death, survived a decade long separation, drama, conflict and angst, more personal tragedy than anyone should have to deal with, and yet maintained that elusive flicker of hope, of deep love and unbroken, if severely tested, loyalty one to the other. He found himself filled with wonder and enduring gratitude when he woke up beside her each time, marveled at her strength of purpose and will, embraced her troubled spirit, recognized it as so close to his own, and yet she loved him. That alone kept him putting one foot in front of the other when all around him were seemingly insurmountable odds. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you.”  
Jamie stirred from her light doze. “Yes please.”  
Mitch kissed her cheek. “Don't move, let me do everything.”  
“I can go along with that. Kiss me.”  
He slipped his arm under her neck and lifted her, his mouth covering hers in a deep embrace that tried to convey all he felt about her. He leisurely explored her mouth with his tongue, tangling with hers in a lazy dance, his teeth nipping at her lips before delving inside once more, drawing her very essence into himself. Her hands were playing with his head, combing through his hair, stroking his nape, while his spare hand was covering her breast, circling and massaging, finding a taut peak and gently squeezing it.  
From her mouth, he made his way to her jaw and neck, suckling and lathing the supple skin with his tongue, his good hand working down her torso, molding and stroking the warm flesh. Pulling his bandaged hand out from behind her head, he moved down the bed, pulling the covers off to give him room to work. Jamie shifted to the center of the bed and made appreciative noises when it became plain what Mitch had in mind for her. His fingers were now sliding under the lace edge of her panties, those clever digits stroking through her silky nether-hairs, seeking the moist warmth between her legs.  
Mitch sat up and slowly drew the scrap of lace and nylon down her legs and off her feet, the underwear sailing off over his head to land somewhere in the room.  
“Just beautiful,” he growled, pushing his hand against the inside of her knees, urging her legs apart, baring her to his gaze. From the head of the bed, Jamie watched him looking at her body, his bandaged hand lifting her leg so that he could kiss it from ankle to knee, his bulk at the end of the bed a darker shadow in the starlit room. His other hand was now stroking over the leg still laying on the mattress, his slightly rough finger tips raising goosebumps where they touched. She lifted her arms above her head, shivering in anticipation of the next act, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and closing her eyes in readiness.  
Mitch lowered her leg and leant forward, his head almost touching the flat stomach, his tongue darting out to circle her belly button, the muscles below trembling at the contact.  
“God. Mitch, you're killing me...” the hoarse whisper from the pillow only made him grin.  
Enough of the appetiser, it was time for the main course.  
Positioning himself between her legs, he dipped his head and nuzzled at the fluff of hair covering her sex. His tongue made a lazy sweep of the folds of flesh, tasting and testing her responses, listening to the gasps and sighs, wriggles and jerks to guide him to her most sensitive places.  
Jamie pressed herself to his mouth, arching her back and drawing her legs up to better expose her most intimate self to his talented tongue. Mitch tugged one of the pillow down to position under her hips, further raising her, giving him unlimited access to every part of her.  
She teetered on the brink so many times she lost count, the rasp of his unshaven chin combined with his warm and highly mobile tongue kept her hanging on the cusp of pain and pleasure, her breath coming in short panting gasps, speeding up and slowing down as the pressure increased or waned. Adding to this conflagration were the three fingers Mitch put inside her, the feeling of being full together with his continued attention to her pleasure center overloaded her system and she squealed, loudly, when the inevitable tsunami of orgasm flooded her body, leaving her quaking, flushed and boneless in the aftermath.  
Mitch rested his cheek against one quivering thigh and licked his lips, well satisfied with his performance.  
“Oh, my....mymymymymy...” Jamie babbled, one arm over her eyes as she rode out the lingering muscle spasms in her belly and legs. She felt the bed dip as Mitch made his way from the end of the bed to the head, settling himself on his side facing her. He drew up the covers and tucked them in around her, not touching her, just waiting for her to come down from her high, allowing her to recover her equilibrium. When she finally removed her arm over her eyes, she met his shadowed eyes and the smuggest looking grin she'd ever seen on his face. For once she didn't complain. He'd well and truly earned the right to look that smug.  
“I'm dead. You killed me.” She murmured softly, smiling her pleasure up at him.  
“You're welcome.” Mitch shot back. He licked his lips. “You taste delicious.”  
Jamie opened her mouth to speak but was over taken by a wide yawn.  
“Sorry about that. What about you?” She went to reach for him, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.  
“I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Just close your eyes and sleep.” He waited until the frown disappeared between her brows and her eyes closed, then lifted her captured hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the fingers before laying it down and tucking it under the covers.  
“I love you,” Jamie whispered, already half asleep. “Love you so much.”  
Mitch smiled in the darkness and leant down to press a soft kiss on her forehead.  
“I know.”

x x x x x x x

With the sun barely clearing the horizon, they were all up and working on the fence line. The news on the television during breakfast only served to spur them on even faster. Peggy left later in the morning to go shopping, taking a list almost as long as her arm. If she was successful in securing half of what they wanted, she'd be doing well.  
Jamie prepared the midday meal, Peggy being still out. The men shuffled in when she shouted for them, discarding gloves and boots at the door. They switched on the TV to catch the latest news, but there was little new in any of the reports. After lunch they pushed on, the constant thunk of the nail gun like a steady heartbeat. Peggy returned mid afternoon, the trailer behind her truck heaped with the success of her shopping. Jamie left the men to give her a hand unloading.  
Peggy looked hot and unsettled, a grim set to her mouth.  
“I was lucky getting some of these items. People seem to be catching on to something big happening.”  
“Did you have any trouble?” Jamie asked, picking up one of the number of paper grocery bags packed into the tray of the utility.  
“It got a bit hairy at one of the gas stations, people were trying to fill up on petrol and one of the pumps ran empty. I was at the diesel, so that wasn't so bad, but it got into a shoving match along the line. I got out as fast as I could.”  
The women fetched and carried the remaining groceries into the kitchen, then returned to start on the trailer.  
“That box has what Mitch asked for,” Peggy pointed out. “So take it straight into the dairy. I'll take this box of nails to Jim. How's the fence coming?”  
“See for yourself, it should be ninety percent done by nightfall.”  
Peggy carried the box of nails to where her husband and Mitch still labored “Nails as requested.” Peggy announced. Jim quickly cracked the lid and unwrapped one of the prepacked cartridges.  
“Just in time. Whatdya' think?” He flung an arm out to indicate their progress.  
Peggy looked along the sturdy barrier and clapped her hands together. “You're doing great. Jamie seemed to think it might be nearly done tonight ?”  
“We've left the stretch behind the outbuildings till last. We need to cut down that brush so we have a clear line of sight. Then we just have to construct a gate, and it's done.” Jim grinned at his wife. “Fastest bit of fencing I've ever done.”  
“Only bit of fencing I've ever done!” Added Mitch, flexing his fingers in his borrowed leather gloves. “I think I have blisters on my blisters.”  
“How's the thumb holding up?” Peggy asked.  
Mitch waggled his damaged thumb still encased in the glove. “Works fine.”  
“Well, I won't hold you boys up any longer. Jamie can help me clear the trailer. Soon as that's done we'll be back out here to help.” Giving her husband a kiss on the cheek, Peggy left the men to their fencing and returned to the front of the house where Jamie was taking more parcels out and putting them on the steps of the verandah.  
“Give me a hand with this bale of wire...”.

X x x x x

By the time darkness covered the sky they had chainsawed down the ragged hedge, and cleared the footings for the fence posts. Both men were exhausted. Mitch had to have both hands dressed for blisters before grabbing a bite to eat and falling into bed.  
Jamie and Peggy carried on their task of filling the basement with their stockpile of goods, water and food until they called it quits and sought their beds.

Jamie jerked awake sometime before dawn. The dogs shut up in the kitchen were whining and scratching at the back door.  
“Mitch, wake up.” She jostled him and he woke up with a grunt.  
“What? What is it?”  
“Dogs are whining. Some one or something is outside.” Slipping her legs over the side of the bed, she pulled out the gun she had concealed under her pillow. Mitch, in the act of putting on his glasses, stared at her.  
“When did you put that there?”  
“Last night.”  
They could both hear the dogs, their whining barks getting louder. Out on the landing they encountered Jim and Peggy, each armed with a pistol. Together they made they're way as quietly as possible down the stairs, leaving the lights off. When they reached the kitchen they flipped on the light, the dogs instantly slinking over to wriggle against their owners legs, still whining and whimpering.  
“What the hell has got these animals in a tizzy?” Peggy asked. Jim approached the back door, looking back at Jamie and silently counting down to one. Then he yanked the door open. The dogs immediately ran outside, barking loudly while the humans rushed onto the verandah and peered out into the yard. The motion sensor lights flicked on and everything froze into a tableau.  
“Ethan?”  
Jim and Peggy moved forward, while Mitch and Jamie hung back.  
“There goes our comfortable bed.” Mitch muttered.  
In the predawn light, Ethan Hambly and his wife Jess climbed off the farm bike and waited for Jim and Peggy to reach them.  
“We're sorry to get you folks out of bed so early, but after what you said to Jess, and what you told me the other day, we figured that here was pretty much the safest place to be.” Ethan glanced back at his wife, who made a motion with her hands for him to continue. “With what's been going on on the news the last few days, and what we heard when I took the kids to their grandparents, you might have the right idea.” He paused to look around the barricade now enclosing nearly all the farmhouse. “We don't have the money or the man-power to do what you're doing here, so we came to help finish it and maybe, if you'll allow, join you in defending your property. We brought some supplies and can go back for more.” Ethan paused for breath, and his wife spoke up for the first time.  
“Please, Peggy...Jim. Say we can stay with you? I'm frightened to death with what is happening in Omaha, and I know you are sensible people and wouldn't take just anybody's word for what might happen. Ethan said your friend knew all about these hybrid monsters, and maybe about what is making people ill in Omaha.”  
Peggy stepped forward. “He does know what he's talking about, more than most. You're welcome to stay with us until this threat is passed. Let's go in the house and rustle up some breakfast.”  
Mitch stepped aside to let the frightened couple pass into the house. “At least we can use the extra pair of hands with the last of the fencing.”

x x x x x

Breakfast was a somber affair, the television giving them all an update, on the situation in Omaha, that made for grim reading. The illness that was clogging the hospitals had been linked to the cities water supply, confirming Mitch's worst fears – that the contaminant was able to survive the usual water purification processes into the mains water system.  
“Where does your kitchen or bathroom tap water come from?” He asked.  
“From the well.” Jim stated. “We're not on the town supply here. Anything the well or barrels can't supply is pumped from the river, like I said before, for irrigation usually.”  
“Good. I suggest as a back up you boil any and all water from your well, just as a precaution. I know I said it was clean, but if this somehow gets into the groundwater...” He didn't have to elaborate, his captive audience understood.  
The sun was now up and they made their plans for the day. Peggy, Jess and Jamie would return to the Hambly's house and strip it of anything useful, while the men worked on completing the fence and started on fashioning a substantial gate.  
When the women returned at midday the truck and trailer were piled high, and the fence was finally complete. Ethan came over to help with the unloading, explaining that Jim and Mitch were running cattle wires around the perimeter as an added deterrent.  
While Peggy and her neighbors unpacked, Jamie went to find the other two. The sound of a mallet hammering in a stake drew her to the back of the property. There she found Mitch holding the stake while Jim swung the mallet and drove it into the ground. Both men were sweating and covered in dust.  
“Time to take a break, you two. We can come back and finish this later.”  
Jim gave the long handled mallet a final swing, driving the post another half a foot into the dirt, then he dropped it gratefully and flexed his arms. Mitch stepped back from the stake and stripped off his gloves.  
“Was there anything useful at the Hambly place?” Jim asked as they started to walk back along the fence.  
“One or two things. Managed to board up the ground floor windows while we were there.” Jamie told them.  
Peggy had set up a large tin bowl on the verandah for the men to wash up in, several towels folded on a stool for them to use. While Jim and Mitch splashed the dirt from their hands and faces, Jamie entered the house to see what she could do to help. 

The midday meal was simple but filling, Peggy already starting to apportion the food according to who was working the hardest. Jamie silently applauded her good sense. Who knew how long they would need to hold out.

After a brief respite, Jim, Mitch and Ethan once more went outside to carry on the preparations while the women beavered away inside, stowing the extra linen and other belongings, as well as make up sleeping accommodation for the newcomers. Jamie was secretly glad they she and Mitch weren't to be evicted from their bed. Peggy cleared out her sewing-come-hobby room and gave that over for Ethan and Jess to use instead. They'd brought all the bedding, including spare mattresses, from the Hambly house, some of which were ferried down to the basement for future use.  
When Jamie was satisfied she'd done all she could to the inside of the house, she turned her attention to the outside. With the three dogs following her around, she investigated Jim's workshop and discovered some abandoned decorative shutters languishing in the back of a storage room. One by one she hauled them out into the sunshine and looked them over. They'd obviously once decorated the house, but had been removed due to damage on some of them, possibly from a particularly violent storm, not infrequent in Iowa. They were made up of narrow louvers and painted blue. Peggy appeared in the doorway of the house, shaded her eyes to see who was about and then wandered over to where Jamie contemplated the squares of wood.  
“Where did these come from? They weren't on the house when we moved in.”  
Jamie indicated the workshop. “Somewhere in back. I'm wondering if we can use these. Would save on timber if we can recycle them. There's not enough to do all the windows, but maybe for the ground floor.”  
The rattle of hammers on metal rang out and they both looked towards the roadway and entrance to the property. One side of a corrugated steel gate was already up, the three men working together on the second half even as they watched. Peggy turned back to contemplate the shuttering.  
“Let's get these onto the porch and the men can decide what to do with them.” She looked around the now enclosed space of her farmyard and outbuildings.  
“It does seem strange not to be looking out over the fields. Do you think they've done enough?”  
Jamie bent down to gather up several of the shutters.  
“I hope so. Jim seems to think that the addition of bracing on the inside will stop anything short of an elephant pushing any of the sheets inwards. Of course,” Jamie joked. “A moat or a deep ditch probably wouldn't go amiss.”  
Peggy laughed. “How about some concrete bollards and a tank trap or two?”  
“We could build guard towers and put in spotlights...”  
“Anti-aircraft guns and a few canon would round it out!”  
The women's laughter rang out and the men looked up from their hammering.  
“What are they laughing about?” Ethan asked, wiping at the sweat pouring down his face.  
Mitch shrugged. “No idea. If it's something we've forgotten, I'm sure they'll let us know when we're done here.”  
Jim just grunted and started hammering again. 

The gate raising brought everyone over to see it, the final ring of the hammer knocking the hinge pins into place raised a cheer. When Ethan dropped the cross bar into place, securing the two halves everyone applauded.  
“Now all we need to do is hammer in the angled stakes for bracing the fence and we're done for the day.” Jim announced to groans from his co-workers. Fending off a possible mutiny, Peggy announced they needed to take a break and could use the time deciding how to make the best use of the shutters Jamie found. To that end the weary workers brought out chairs to sit on the verandah, passed around bottles of cold beer and relaxed for the first time since sun-up.  
Jess, a pretty woman in her late forties, went inside to see what was the latest on the news. Mitch sat in one of the armchairs and laid his head back, pressing the cold bear to his cheek before taking a long drink, his throat working as he swallowed.  
“How are you hands?” Jamie asked from the next chair over.  
Mitch tilted his head up and stared down at his bandaged palms. Dust and sweat had turned the formerly white linen an orange'y grey. “Don't know, can't feel them.” He replied, turning them over and back. He frowned down at them. “I've never had much occasion to use a hammer before. Soldering iron, yes. Carpentry tools – not so much.” He looked up when Jim called his name.  
“We're starting our rationing tonight.” Jim told him. “Water.” He explained when Mitch looked at him blankly.  
“Oh, sure. Whatever you say.”  
“Peggy will fill a bucket with boiled water, from the well, for you and it will have to do for the time being rather than a shower.” Jim advised.  
“No problem. What are you going to use the water in the swimming pool for?”  
“The kitchen garden to keep up a supply of fresh greens for as long as possible.”  
Mitch nodded. “Makes sense. Don't add any more Chlorine to the water and it should be fine. Use the pool cover to stop water loss from evaporation.” He downed the remains of his beer. “Guess we need to get those bracing poles in place.” He pulled himself out of armchair and stretched, joints popping.  
“Keep that bucket warm.”

x x x x x


	6. The Stockade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Refer to previous chapters for summary and ratings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note. Not a scientist, policeman, medical person or crop farmer. Never had anything to do with citizen band radio's, and now have never used, fired or handled a gun of any description (other than a water pistol) - so any errors to do with anything listed above are all my own. Feel free to set me right if I make a glaring booboo.

The faint but regular tick of the electric fence was now just another background noise. The gates created the last section of the circuit. Closed – fence electrified. Open – fence not electrified. It was basic, but effective.   
As a further precaution, despite their amiable natures, the three dogs were chained up securely with enough length to allow them free movement, but kept them clear of the house. Peggy wasn't happy about the arrangement, but Mitch assured her she'd be very, very unhappy if the dogs started to attack everyone. He didn't tell her he was using the animals as indicators of how the hybrids transmitted the mutant vector affecting the water supply. He needed to know if the animals could be turned from the water alone, or had to have direct contact with the hybrids – specifically the wolf hybrids, or whether any mutated animal – first or second generation – had the ability to turn others.   
As had been discussed when they were planning the defenses of the farm, they couldn't keep birds and insects out, so given they'd used birds to spread the cure the first time, the reverse could be true this time. Either way, he was monitoring the dogs carefully, and noting the local bird behavior for any signs of change.

His study of the water borne spores was not going anywhere very fast. He'd tested all the samples, noted the level of concentration in relation to how distant each was from the barrier, including how long since the barrier was breached, matching this with a projected spread pattern of the hybrids. Given it would take a human approximately eight days to reach Turin on foot, and they had now been away from the barrier nearly that long, also factoring in that the wolf hybrids could move a heck of a lot faster than most humans, Mitch expected something to turn up any day now.

The news from Omaha was grim. The local television channel now only broadcasting news bulletins, and only for a short time each day. The city was starting to experience power black outs, and the numbers of deaths from violence, rioting and ill health were starting to climb.   
Worse, the population was starting to flee the city, pouring out into the surrounding countryside in an effort to escape the escalating infection rate and attendant violence. 

He had considered that the water borne contaminant might simply be an unsubtle way to kill off more of the human population, but that seemed too clumsy, too inelegant. But hey, what did he know about Abigail Westbrook beyond what was common knowledge? She was raised by Robert Oz, for some reason in seclusion from her brother, Jackson Oz. Why was she called Westbrook? Was that her mother's name? Abigail had been instrumental and involved in the Shepherds underground organization Apparently she had been experimenting with animals for a long time, trying to achieve what? Mitch had no idea. With the samples taken from Abendegos, they'd established he'd originally been a Chimpanzee. Why and how a chimp was able to speak was a whole nuther mess of science fiction weird come to life. 

Reviewing what he'd established so far, he knew the mutant spore, as he liked to call it, was resistant to most water purification techniques when using chemicals like chlorine or salt. It also resisted being filtered out by conventional methods – sand, charcoal and other organic filters.   
About the only way he'd found to successfully eradicate the water contaminant was to boil the tainted water for ten minutes, then filter it repeatedly through a micro-membrane, usually used for medical dialysis, combined with using a centrifuge to remove the dead organisms. Elaborate and time consuming but effective, even if impractical for anything other than the quantity of drinking water needed to provide for an individual person.

Within the limits of his lab, and it had many limits, he'd tested and experimented with what he could. He'd watched the news bulletins expecting to hear reports of people exploding, or dying dramatically, but when that didn't happen, he concluded that these spores were different from the airborne ones released in the nests. Those spores were designed for only one purpose – to cause death to anyone who inhaled them. This inevitability reminded him of Max. Even a small ingestion of the deadly buggers had caused fast onset pulmonary edema in his father with no hope of recovery. He was only glad Max had passed relatively peacefully, with his heart giving out and without him drowning in his own blood. 

The new, water borne spores seemed to cause extreme gastric enteritis, the sudden catastrophic loss of fluids in the victims, along with electrolytes, causing a crisis, mostly in those sixty and over from the reports to date, but other adults were not immune. If there were other side effects, they weren't being reported on...yet. He gave a dry laugh. The prospect of dealing with a zombie apocalypse as well as curing the animals and reversing sterility was just too much. He was only one man. Chuckling at his own black humor he turned back to his notes.

The distant sound of hammering interrupted his thoughts and he glanced down at his bandaged hands, a reminder of the blisters he'd created erecting the fence. Now the others were securing the house, putting up the shutters on the outside to protect the ground floor windows, and using the bails of chicken wire to enclose the wrap-around verandah. All the interior doors were to be strengthened, and the second floor windows covered in wooden slats when the decorative shutters ran out.   
Ethan and Jim had placed the last bracing stake against the inside of the fencing, so that anything getting through the electric fence, would have to not only knock down the uprights and corrugated sheeting on the outside, but overcome the stakes that were braced against planking on the inside of the fence, the extra timber enhancing its over all strength. 

It was now truly a defensible stockade. He'd have to come up with a name for their new fortress. To amuse himself he doodled several potential names – Fort Morgan, Fort Stranded-In-The-Middle-Of-Nowhere, Fort Last-Chance. In the end he gave it up and decided instead to see how things were progressing outside, his brain needing a break from trying to achieve the impossible. 

X-x-x-x

He found Jamie up in the attic, the small dormer window facing towards the back of the property open, and several small crates stacked up beneath it.   
“Sniper's nest?” He asked, climbing the last rungs of the ladder before standing on the dusty, bare floor boards, his head bent to the side because of the low ceiling.   
“Something like that. We have the weapons and the ammo. Seemed like a good idea.”  
“You've done the same calculations I have.” Mitch stated. Jamie nodded.  
“Any day now.” She stopped cleaning the rifle in her hands and gave him a shrewd look. “We are staying, aren't we?”  
Mitch drew over one of the unused wooden crates and sat down. “We started this rodeo, reckon we should see it to the end. Might even get some good intel from it, something we can use later on.”  
“Talking about intel. How are things coming with the water hybrids?” Jamie asked.  
Mitch pondered her question for a moment, staring out over the brown fields beyond the attic window.  
“The only way, so far, that I've managed to kill the water borne spore is to boil it, centrifuge it and strain it through a medical grade membrane.”  
“Not exactly practical, then?”  
Mitch shook his head. “Not remotely. Distilling is another option I've yet to try, but I don't have the necessary glassware to truly experiment with different methods.”  
“We could find out if there's a distillation plant on our route north. They'd have what you needed.”  
Mitch looked at her with admiration. “Brilliant. And they'd be able to produce distilled water in greater quantities, tankers full if necessary. Always supposing distilling is enough to remove the spores and their effects from the water. You're a genius!”  
Jamie smiled and went back to her gun cleaning. “Not even close. Just riffing off your ideas.”  
Mitch turned to stare out the window again, his brain already off on another track, considering their options, factoring in variables, comparing models, working a mile a minute. Jamie left him to it, recognizing when he was deep into his pure science mode.   
Minutes passed and she carried on, working her way through the weapons arranged around her. Disassemble, clean, reassemble, replace the clip and repeat.   
“I think we have a live one.” Mitch's voice made her jump slightly.  
“Where?” She waited for him to point, then picked up a long range, bolt action rifle with a sniper sight. Mitch moved to give her room. She positioned herself, staring through the sight, taking a few seconds to find the fast moving target. “Got it. Shoot to kill? Or wound so you can study it before you pick it apart?”  
“Kill.” Mitch's didn't hesitate.   
Jamie lined it up, the sound of the shot filling the empty space of the attic, making dust shake down from the rafters. “Got it.” Jamie announced. “Retrieval?”  
“Yeah.”

x-x-x-x

The four others clustered around them when they emerged downstairs, Jamie carrying her rifle. She also carried several hand guns and a bandolier of gun clips.  
“We're going to need the farm bike and trailer,” Mitch announced, taking the gun and holster Jamie held out for him. “Keys?”  
“What the hell did you shoot?” Ethan spluttered, his wife Jess, clutching at her husbands arm.   
“You'll see when we bring it back.” Mitch turned to Jamie. “We'll need a body bag and gloves if we're going to handle it.”  
Jamie nodded and pushed past the Hambly's to go out the front door.   
“Jim, can your get the gate for us?” He waited for the big man to nod before turning back to Ethan. “Keys!!” This time Ethan fumbled in his pocket and produced the ignition keys, Mitch's tone of voice now a command. 

Outside, Jamie was loading up the paniers on the quad bike with the necessary supplies, her rifle slung over her back.   
“Wanna drive?” Mitch called, tossing her the keys. Jamie grinned at him and swung her leg over the four wheel bike. Mitch did the same and settled behind her. They slowly trundled towards the gate, where Jim waited to let them out.   
“Shut it behind us and don't open unless you here me or Jamie call out.” Mitch told him.  
“Got it. Be safe.” Jim lifted the cross bar and pulled the gate open, just enough to let the farm bike and trailer through, then he shut it tight behind them. 

Peggy, Ethan and Jess had gone up to the second floor, to the back bedroom to watch the pair on the bike bounce their way across the furrows hidden by the short greenery. They saw the two figures stop beside something dark on the ground. Minutes later they had the body bag filled and placed on the trailer, whatever inside so big it hung over the edges. Then the bike was bouncing its way back towards the farmstead and they all made their way downstairs to see what had been retrieved.  
Jim responded to Mitch's shout and opened the gate, shutting it again once they were through. Jamie pulled up in front of the house, the ominous grey bag managing to look threatening even before they saw the contents.   
“This is what we're up against, and why we pushed to get all this...” Mitch indicated the new fence. “Done as quickly as possible.” He reached down to unzip the bag, Jamie standing beside the trailer, a pistol loaded and ready in case her first shot had not been sufficient.  
“Why she holding a gun on it?” Jess's loud whisper to her husband was heard by them all. “It's dead, isn't it?”  
Mitch ignored the woman and peeled back the heavy vinyl to reveal the hybrid inside. All four of the watchers drew in a gasp of breath, shocked at what was in the bag.   
“What the fuck is that?!” Ethan asked, his voice several octaves above normal.  
Mitch stared down at the textbook wolf-hybrid. “One ugly son-of-a bitch.”

x-x-x-x

Jim helped Mitch lift the dead hybrid, still in the bag, onto a long concrete bench in one of the other outbuildings.   
“You going to dissect that thing?” Jim asked.  
“Says I'm a veterinary pathologist on the badge, so yes, I'm going to dissect it.”  
“Can I watch?” The request made Mitch blink.  
“If you like. You'll need a face mask, safety glasses, gloves and apron. These things are usually pretty messy. Gumboots wouldn't go a3miss, either.” Mitch advised. “And keep everyone else away. I don't want any one coming into contact with the body fluids. I don't know yet if these creatures are the source of the spores contaminating the rivers, or just a vector.”  
Jim hurried off to kit up as Mitch suggested, while Mitch went to fetch his collection of specialized dissection paraphernalia. Jamie met him as he approached the unimog's trailer.   
“So...time to get all science'y?”  
Mitch grinned at her. “Time to get messy!”  
“You love all this.” She stated, leaning against the side of the truck while Mitch rummaged among the boxes and cases in the trailer.   
“Pretty much my wheelhouse.” Mitch replied from the dark depths.   
Jamie waited for him to appear, a large case in his hands. “Do you need any more samples, or is one enough?”  
“One should be fine. Why? Have there been others out there?”  
They started to walk to the dairy, where Mitch intended to pick up the necessary items he needed to wear to do the necropsy.   
“Not that I've seen, but it would be silly to think this is the only one, out this way.”  
They entered the dairy and Mitch shucked off his coat. Jamie moved about the cluttered room, helping him find the items he needed. She started to collect a separate set for herself when Mitch spoke up.  
“Jim asked if he could help.” He watched her expressive face for any adverse reaction.  
Jamie merely said, “oh, okay. I'll just watch then. I can always help label the samples.”  
Mitch smiled at her, his obvious glee at having something to cut up and explore putting him in a very good mood. “That would be a big help. Not sure Jim's stomach will last the distance.”

x-x-x-x

They had to bring in extra lighting, and the surroundings were hardly up to standard, but it was sufficient for Mitch to study and marvel at the complexity of mutations affecting the animal under his scalpel. They were careful not to allow any body fluids to escape the body bag, not wanting anything to contaminate the soil, or by association the ground water. Internally the hybrid was not so completely distant from its species origins, but there were a number of unusual body parts that Mitch had no idea their purpose, as well as evidence that this particular hybrid, despite having no external sex organs, was apparently carrying several embryos within a backward facing, pouch-like flap of under belly, like a marsupial.  
“So it's a female.” Jamie stated, watching Mitch pull one after another of the sack like embryos from the hidden pouch.   
“Not necessarily.” Mitch rebuffed. “Abe seemed to think that the hybrids had an asexual method of reproduction, possibly growing clones merely from blood and at an accelerated rate.”  
“That doesn't seem possible!” said Jim. “Every living thing has an egg that needs to be fertilized, whether animal, plant, fish or fowl.”  
“Except these.” Mitch leant away from the carcass and put the scalpel down. “No where in this animal is any sort of either internal or external sexual organ. Apart from the pouch and these egg sacks, this beastie is not only incapable, it has none of the glands associated with reproduction, no evidence they experience a hormonal cycle.” He reached to zip up the bag to keep the contents secure before stripping off his gory latex gloves.   
“It is entirely possible that these creatures are merely incubators for the next generation. That like ants or termites, they have a single queen somewhere out there producing the fertilized eggs, which they in turn carry as far away from her as possible, providing the widest dispersal of the species.”  
“A bit like seeds carried by the wind,” said Jamie.  
“Or a toad carrying its young on its back,” said Jim.  
Mitch carefully placed each tiny egg sack, no larger than a pea, into a container to be carried to the dairy for further examination. “I have a theory, but I need to get these under a microscope.”

x-x-x-x

Jamie pulled open the new chicken-wire screen door onto the verandah, her rifle slung over her back. Almost immediately she found the male half of the Hambly's all up in her face.  
“What else do you have squirreled away in that vehicle of yours?” he asked, the inquiry bordering on becoming a demand.  
“None of your business,” Jamie replied sharply. She tried to brush past him and go into the house but he moved to block her.   
“That's an impressive array of expensive weaponry in the attic. Your professor should share some of that with the rest of us.”  
Jamie lifted her chin. “Can you shoot? And I don't mean just blast away with a shotgun, but actually hit a target?”  
Ethan shrugged. “I'm good enough. Now how about I look after that rifle you're carrying around?”  
Jamie stepped back and drew her pistol, pointing it squarely in the irritating man's face.   
“Back off.” She swept the man with a disparaging look, up and down. “I suspect you are thinking that I'm just the little woman, the writer, an easy mark and that Mitch is the expert on combat and weapons.” She gave Ethan a tight smile and shook her head. “You'd be wrong. He's the brains, I'm the weapons and close combat expert.” She cocked her head at his disbelieving expression. “I'm trained in martial arts and hand to hand fighting. I've killed men who piss me off, and I could drop you without missing a beat.”  
“I'd listen to her, if I were you.” Mitch's drawl came from behind her. “I'd want her on my side, if I had any sense at all.”  
Jamie slowly lowered her weapon, flicked on the safety and re-holstered it, all in one smooth, well practiced move.   
Ethan goggled at her. “Son of a bitch.” Was all he had to say. He moved aside.   
Jamie stalked into the house. Mitch was right behind her, but not before flashing the open mouthed Ethan an exaggerated wink and a shit-eating grin.

x-x-x-x

“So I'm the brains, and you're the brawn. Just as well I don't have a male ego to bruise.”  
Jamie turned to see Mitch appear above the lip of the opening leading into the attic. He held two mugs of something hot, the steam curling lazily in the cooler air of the roof space.  
“Would help if there was some light in here, otherwise I could end up wearing this soup.”  
Jamie rolled her eyes behind the infrared goggles and lifted them to sit on the top of her head. She toggled a switch and a small table lamp lit up, glowing warmly next to her.   
Mitch, bent over so as not to crack his head on the low ceiling, made his way over to her and sat on a spare crate, handing her one of the mugs.  
“I've been getting funny looks from Ethan and his lovely wife, all evening.” Mitch told her.  
Jamie huffed and bent her head to sip at the hot, tasty soup.   
Mitch leant forward to peer out the small dormer window, scanning the darkened fields for any sign of movement. Seeing nothing, he turned back to his companion.  
“I think you put the fear of God in him.”  
“I'll put more than the fear of God in that macho, sexist....dickhead!” The last word was spat out like an expletive. Mitch sipped his soup and let her seethe for a moment.  
“I don't think you'll have any more arguments from him.” Mitch told her, wincing when Jamie turned a killer glare in his direction. “Hey, don't turn those guns on me. I think your particular brand of no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, style of feminism is hot. When you swing those fists and twirl that knife, I get an instant hard-on! And when you stand there in those painted-on jeans , gun cocked and ready to shoot I almost....”  
“Almost what ?!” Jamie laughed, doubling over and almost dropping her mug as she giggled helplessly.  
Mitch leant forward. “Come in my shorts.” He whispered in a low growl that set her off laughing again.   
“You are a bad man, Mitch Morgan.”  
Mitch gave her a half smile, his eyes glittering in the semi-dark. “But you love me, anyway.”  
Jamie nodded. “I do. Completely and utterly.”  
Satisfied she was no longer brooding on her encounter with Ethan, Mitch sat back and drank his soup, occasionally glancing out the window, a cool breeze making him glad he wore his coat. Jamie was also rugged up, the rifle perched on top of the crates, ready for action.   
Downing the contents of his mug, he placed it on the floor and reached for the spare pair of goggles.  
Jamie switched off the table lamp, plunging the attic into darkness, only a faint glow from the trapdoor to light the gloom.   
“Is moonlight a help or a hindrance with these?” Mitch asked, fiddling with his to get a better fit over his glasses.  
“Depends.” Jamie replied, fitting her own goggles over her eyes. “They work best with no light source, starlight being pretty much perfect.”  
Mitch stared out at the landscape, now clearly visible in a lurid pale green, the stars overhead bright pin-pricks of light. Apart from the breeze, nothing was moving among the half grown corn crop below.   
“Mitch?”  
“Yeah.”  
“How long are we staying here?”  
“You want to move on?”  
“Don't get me wrong, I like Jim and Peggy, they're good people and I'd hate to leave them when they still need us..”  
“But..?”  
“But we have an agenda. Things are quickly becoming chaotic, and the sooner we find a cure to stop the hybrids from spreading, or at least limit their ability to turn other animals into hybrids, the better.”  
Mitch sat back on his crate and removed his goggles. “I don't disagree, Jamie. You said yourself we need to see if we can solve the problem with the water using a distillation method, plus we don't have the resources here for me to do a proper study of the hybrids and how they cause other animals to mutate.”  
“So, you agree we need to get back on the road soon?”  
“Yeah. We'll talk it over with the others tomorrow, okay?”  
Jamie nodded, then gave a gusty sigh. “I'm going to miss that bed.”  
Mitch leant forward and nudged her with his elbow. “We still have tonight to enjoy it.”  
Jamie bit her lower lip, then gave him a grin. “What are we doing up here then?”  
Mitch got up quickly and banged his head. “Ouch. Come, woman. To bed.”

x-x-x-x

Jamie collapsed on her front, panting heavily, her heart galloping. Behind her, Mitch lowered himself to cover her back, their bodies still joined, her internal muscles squeezing him, loving the feel of him inside her.   
“Tell me if I'm too heavy,” Mitch panted, pressing open mouthed kisses to her freckled shoulders and nape.   
“I love feeling you cover me, it's so primal.”  
Mitch grunted. “Me Tarzan, you Jane.”  
“No. More caveman sort of primal.”  
“Oh. Me Fred, you Wilma.”  
Jamie couldn't help it, she laughed and in the process Mitch slipped from her body. “Damn, that felt so good.” She groaned, still smiling at his silly joke. “You are so infantile, sometimes.”  
“I am. Just can't help myself, I love hearing you laugh.” He shifted so that his weight was on the mattress and not on her back. He dragged over the covers, despite them facing the wrong end of the bed. Jamie didn't move, relishing the drag of his lightly furred chest over her sensitive skin.   
Mitch, now settled against her back, resumed his exploration of her shoulders and back, his stubble both scratchy and wonderful at the same time.   
“I think I love your stubble most of all.”  
Mitch lightly bit her. “Well that's good, because I have plenty to go around.” He lifted his leg under the covers and rubbed it over her thigh, the springy hair tickling the back of her legs.  
“Hmmmm...” Jamie purred.  
They lay there, enjoying their post-coital bliss, while the house settled around them.   
Mitch was just drifting, his body feeling weightless and boneless at the same time, Jamie a warm, perfumed pillow against his face. On the edge of consciousness he registered a noise, regular and persistent. He tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't stop. He felt Jamie stir and gave up trying to sleep.  
“What is that?” he asked, his voice gravelly.  
He felt her tense, obviously listening. “Get up.” Her sharp answer had him moving in automatic response to her command. They hurriedly dressed, Mitch going to the window to peer out at the courtyard. Their room overlooked the dog kennels and he expected to see the dogs wandering about on their chains, responding to the same sounds that had him pulling on his jeans without underwear. Instead of the dogs wandering around on their leads, he saw that each chain led only to each dogs kennel. There was no sign of any of the animals.   
Jamie was dressed, pausing only to pull on her boots. “Mitch. Wake everyone up and get the women downstairs. Have Jim and Ethan join you here and man the second story, one on each side of the house. I'll be up in the attic, picking off as many as I can. Tell Peggy to prepare for an evacuation to the basement.”  
“Jamie!” She was almost out the bedroom door when he called her back.  
“It's the hybrids, Mitch. It's a stampede.”

x-x-x-x

Mitch stared out through the slatted, second floor window and could almost feel the house shimmy under the force of the approaching mass of animals. He wasn't convinced that they were all hybrids, his thinking more along the lines of frightened cattle, or sheep, or horses even. Driven to stampede across the open crop lands to get away from the hybrids acting like sheep dogs, herding them onwards in a manner similar to lions shadowing the zebra, or wild dogs chasing down an antelope.   
The animals, whatever they were, could be heard bellowing and screaming, the sound made more ghastly because of the total darkness.   
Peggy had insisted the dogs be bought inside and he hadn't the heart to deny her. They were her pets, her babies and had so far shown no signs of mutation or aberrant behavior. She and Jess were now in the basement, having emptied the fridge and cupboard of the remaining food and bottled liquids.   
Jamie was in the attic. She'd passed down a selection of rifles, guns and munition and assigned a piece to each of the men according to their abilities. Ethan wasn't entirely comfortable with being given the shotgun, but he knew how to load and fire it. He was in the spare room overlooking the side of the house facing the township and road into Turin. Jim had the main bedroom, which overlooked the other side of the property, while Mitch had the window in of the upstairs bathroom, his position almost the same as Jamie's in the attic, over looking the back of the property and the crop fields beyond. He also had the other pair of night-vision goggles, giving him the ability to see what the other two men defending the homestead could not.   
The plan was to frighten the animals with gunfire to make them go around the fence line, not try and break through it. It was simple and relatively fool proof, as plans go. He heard a faint peep in his ear from the microphone there, a precursor to someone speaking. The three men, and Jaime had the ear bud communicators, a bit of modern tech she'd brought along 'just in case'.   
“Can every one hear me?” Jamie's quiet, calm voice flowed into his ear and he felt a shiver go down his spine.  
“Bathroom checking in.” Mitch replied. He heard Jim and Ethan give their replies, then it went silent.   
The noise from the animals was getting louder and louder, his goggles allowing him to see the leaders.

“Update on what we're dealing with.” Jamie continued. “Mostly bovine, mixed with other domestic breeds. No sign of hybrids yet. I'll give the signal to fire, above their heads at this stage. We want to frighten them away from the fence line. Every one understand?”  
Jamie waited for the men to reply, Mitch low and gravelly, Jim deep with a slight Scottish brogue, and Ethan, sounding nervous and rattled. “Make sure your window is open, the barrel resting on a support, and take a deep breath.” Jamie continued to give instructions in a calm, soft voice. If everyone kept their cool, the animals should hopefully stream past the farm without incident. She squinted through the gun sight and saw the lead animals. They were the ones she'd try to steer. Taking careful aim she let go a shot, the bullet hitting the ground in front of one of the leaders, the steer veering to the left, the way Jamie wanted it too. Her second shot harmlessly dug up gouts of dirt and sent one of the other leaders veering to the right, shoving those nearest to him. A divide was forming.  
“Mitch. Aim for the ground just beyond the fence.” She waited to hear the sound of a shot and used the scope to see the reaction of the steers. There was a definite split happening.   
“Jim and Ethan, don't fire unless I tell you to. Do not fire.”  
Both men acknowledged they'd heard her.  
The beasts approaching the property were keeping up a steady pace, not panicked, not even truly stampeding, but running or being driven by something.   
The enormous herd of animals was now at the edge of the farmstead. She fired again at the leaders, making sure they kept to their course. Now came the tricky bit. Those behind the leaders would follow as best they could, but they were often blinded by the dust and dirt thrown up and couldn't see any obstacles in the way. They were the danger. As she stared down at the heaving mass, she saw just such an animal, her rifle spitting once, then twice to bring down the cattle before they impacted against the fence. Their huge bodies hit the ground, preventing others from advancing, those behind milling about until they joined in the flow down either sides of the property, like a dark river of bellowing, churning dirt.   
While she watched a group of horses thunder past, she saw the first hybrid, snapping at the animals heels, driving them onwards, the horses kicking out but not breaking their gallop. Their screaming whinnies made her teeth grind, but before she could think of anything to do, they were gone into the dark and now the slower, smaller animals were making their way past, bleating and jostling each other, all of them trying to avoid the slavering jaws of the monstrous hybrid wolves surrounding them.   
“Everyone can relax, the main group have passed.” She informed the men. Lowering her own rifle, she watched the stragglers stream pass using her night-vision lenses. To her surprise she saw that the last few animals, either too old or too ill to keep up with the main bunch, were also being shepherded past the homestead, the hybrids keeping them moving, but not attempting to kill or maim them further.   
“Mitch, are you seeing this?”  
“If I wasn't seeing it, I'd hardly believe it. They appear to be...I don't know...looking after the halt and the lame. By rights they should have killed those animals, or left them by the wayside. The hybrids appear to be acting like true sheep dogs.” Even as they watched, the rearguard hybrids approached the fence and stopped to sniff at the two dead cows, their gleaming eyes coming to rest on the house itself, as if understanding who was responsible for the deaths. The humans and hybrids regarded each other for a moment, then the animals slunk away, using the fence to hide them from the humans on the other side.   
Jamie scanned the trampled crops, but there was no sign of anything else out there.   
Satisfied that the threat had passed, she closed the attic window and cleaned her gun as quickly as possible. Mitch appeared through the hatch, carrying the other guns and spare ammo, along with his goggles, now perched on is head. He helped to clean the weapons before they were stowed neatly, ready for the next action. Then they went down the ladder to the passageway. Ethan and Jim waited for them so that they all went down together. With the sudden quiet, Peggy and Jess appeared from the basement, closely followed by the dogs. Jim brought out a bottle and glasses were handed to everyone to toast the success of the first defense of the stockade.   
“To Jamie,” said Jim. “Who kept a steady hand and cool head.”  
Everyone drank, Jamie downing hers despite the blush coloring her cheeks.   
“Do you think it's safe to go to bed tonight?” Peggy asked, one hand stroking her dog's silky ears.   
“I won't be able to sleep a wink,” Ethan declared, bombastic as ever.   
“The animals are unlikely to turn around and come back.” Mitch explained. “So I think we can risk getting some sleep. Of course, we could put someone on watch.” He turned to face Ethan. “As you've said you won't sleep a wink, I vote you take the first watch.” Mitch raised his glass to Hambly, then downed it, plonked it on the table top and got up to leave, reaching out a hand to Jamie, who took it and rose to join him. “See you in the morning.”

It was quiet in the bedroom except for the rustle of clothes being discarded and bedding being rearranged. Once in bed, Mitch found his arms full of warm woman, his chin coming to rest on her head, the covers pulled well up over her shoulders.   
“Warm enough?”  
“Toasty.”  
“Good.”  
In bed, but not sleepy, they listened to the noises of the night, of the others in the house moving about, of the dogs claws scrabbling on the bare boards as they followed their owners into the master bedroom.   
“Peggy isn't going to let them sleep outside again, is she?” Mitch grumbled, but without real malice.   
“They're her fur-babies, Mitch. You wouldn't expect her to leave her children outside with all that's happening?”  
He snorted in amusement. “Fur-babies?”  
“It's a social media thing.”  
“Hmm. I wasn't much into all that twitty-book stuff.”   
“It was Twitter and Facebook. An amusing way to pass the time.”  
They lapsed into silence, tense muscles gradually relaxing, over active minds slowly winding down.  
“Do you think they'd let us take this mattress with us?” Mitch asked.   
Jamie giggled, her breath warm against his throat. “As a reward for defending the stockade? Maybe.”  
“Yeah. That's the argument I'll use. For the heroic defense of the homestead.”  
He could feel her smile against his neck and it warmed him down to his toes. He'd happily play the fool forever, if it kept her smiling like that.   
And on that thought he fell asleep. 

x-x-x-x


	7. Onwards and Upwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Dearest Reader, still not in any of the occupations previously stated, still no practical experience with guns or radios, and now entirely clueless as to how alcohol is made. But that's half the fun. Learning new stuff. Thank you for the kudos and comments, they are all lovingly treasured and stroked. All mistakes are mine to wince over once I've published and then discover them. *sigh*

Mitch shaded his eyes and stared at the wide swathe of trampled corn plants. It looked like the path of a tornado, the area flattened and churned up at the same time. The loud rattle of chains made him turn his head and watch as Jim dragged away the second carcass, having waited for Mitch to complete his sample taking before removing the dead beast to be buried.   
Not knowing if the animal had ingested the water borne spores, or been contaminated by a bite from a hybrid, Mitch recommended they not butcher the animals for food, or feed the meat to the dogs, but rather bury or burn them. Jim had a small pit at the extreme edge of the property and he opted to bury the beasts. Mitch agreed. The smell of burning, especially dead animals, was not a pleasant experience.   
With a wave to the crop farmer, Mitch hoisted his sample bag and started walking back to the gate, his thoughts consumed by the animals that streamed past in the dark last night.   
Looking towards the tiny hamlet of Turin, and comparing it to the flat river lands beyond the borders of the farmhouse, it was plain that behind the houses was an unusual feature in the landscape. There was no sign of houses built on the low hills, no power lines, radio towers or other human evidence of access or use to be seen. It was a puzzle, the clear tracks from the migration of animals heading in that direction, not deviating to left or right.   
He reached the high metal gate and shouted for entry. A moment later it swung open, Jamie there to meet him.  
“Get what you wanted?” She asked, shutting the gate behind him.   
“I did. Also did a quick visual check, inside and out, but no obvious signs of mutation or change, no defiant pupils or strange pouches to report.”  
Jamie matched his stride as they made their way to the converted dairy, now Mitch's makeshift laboratory. Inside he emptied his samples into the small fridge, then turned to check on the strange pea-sized 'eggs' he'd extracted from the hybrid Jamie shot the day before.   
“Holy shit!” His exclamation drew his partner over.  
“What?”  
“Look at these things. They're three times the size they were yesterday.”  
“Abe said the blood sample Jackson sent him grew at an accelerated rate as well.”  
“Even so. If that remains true for these, we could have half dozen baby hybrids running around in less than a week!”  
“What about freezing them? That should stop any growth spurt?” Jamie suggested, opening the freezer to see how full it was.   
“The formation of ice crystals will slice them up and make them unusable.”  
“Formaldehyde?” Jamie tried again. Mitch shook his head.   
“Again. That will make them unusable for comparison and DNA testing. Same with Formalin.”  
“What's left?” Jamie asked, her limited knowledge exhausted.  
“We can try refrigerating them, not cold enough to form ice crystals, but enough to slow the growth rate. We'll have to somehow hook this fridge up to a battery and run in off that, if we take it with us.”  
“And I thought you were going to set me a challenge. Let me sort that out while you start packing up the shop to get back on the road.” Jamie flashed him a grin and sauntered towards the door.   
“Fine. Don't forget I still want to be able to fit that mattress in somewhere.” He stared down at the now grape sized egg sacks. “You're not going to fit in those containers for long. Let's see what else we can find to put you in.”

x-x-x-x-x  
Jamie decided to get creative with re-packing the armored trailer. Ethan proved helpful when she put forward the idea, over the midday meal, of creating a framework to store some of the stuff, currently inside the trailer, on the outside. The frames couldn't be too heavy or the trailer would become unbalanced and a pig to tow, likely to fish tail at a certain speed. Ethan suggested putting extra storage on the roof of the trailer, only a couple of feet high, and create a wind buffer at the front to prevent drag and make the air flowing around the trailer work for them, or at least not slow them down and chew through their fuel quicker. They also decided to use the various bars and guards around the main truck, like they had already done with the front bumper, loading it up with anything that could stand the buffeting and not be affected by weather, good or bad. There was even space for a roof rack on the body of the unimog.  
Ethan was a Nascar enthusiast, so he suggested using modified wind deflectors to counteract the tendency to weave at high speed, as well as push the vehicles more firmly onto the road, providing improved traction. Both the truck and trailer already had industrial strength suspension, moderate aerodynamic design and surge brakes on the trailer to help manage the load and prevent fishtailing or jackknifing. But Jamie wasn't about to turn down help in improving their fuel economy and making more space to stow stuff. She and Ethan drew up various designs, then set about cutting up metal bar and welding for the rest of the afternoon.  
No one had suggested they not leave. Jamie had assured them that sufficient weaponry would be left to see off small to moderate attacks, their last resort the basement in the event of being over run. While Ethan beavered to create the new metal attachments, Jamie and Jim talked over strategies, using different scenarios, for defending the homestead, and themselves if they ventured out to garner more supplies. 

Mitch was largely left alone to repack up his toys, gradually creating a sizable heap outside the former dairy building, ready to be packed on the newly configured truck and trailer. Jamie had discussed several ideas to improve things within and without their vehicles, Mitch happy to give her free rein to play, agreeing with nearly all her suggestions as long as the new mattress took center stage. Peggy had laughed when the request was made, happily allowing them to swap what they currently had, with the one from the bed. She also supplied some extra pillows, blankets and other linen to supplement their supplies. Given the the Hambly's household goods were added to their own, they had plenty to share.

By evening the modifications were done and they all pitched in with filling the new spaces, and reconfiguring the existing. Now there was plenty of room for the modified fridge, extra padding to keep the delicate equipment and glassware unbroken, and room to stow a few extra's. 

Finally, they sat around the dining table inside the house, partaking of a last meal, and discussing where they went from here on. There were any number of wine, beer and spirits distilleries in Iowa, mostly to the east. Jamie widened their search area, primarily to get them closer to the Canadian border, and found a place called Watertown, with a local distillery that specialized in vodka, rum and other spirits.   
“Now that is my kind of watering hole.” Mitch announced. “I vote we go there.”  
Jamie looked over the area. “Hmm. South Dakota, so definitely heading north, about five hours from here give or take. Smallish population and a bonus, the distillery is right next door to their zoo park.”  
“A bonus?” Peggy queried.  
Mitch nodded. “They'll have a lab I can use, if they can be persuaded.”  
“And the town is surrounded by glacial lakes, so more water testing!” Jamie informed him, Mitch mock groaning at the prospect of more testing and sampling.   
Jamie gave him a nudge with her elbow. “You know you live for sampling.”  
Mitch nudged her in return. “I do. Even more so when I have a nice, comfortable, well equipped lab to work with.”  
They talked for a while longer, Mitch finding out that the unusual topography behind the farm belonged to a nature reserve, Davis wetland. An area of hills and gullies with small pockets cleared for cropping, but for the most part covered in thick tree cover. It extended for some distance north, an almost perfect hiding place for a sizable herd of mixed herbivores and a population of hybrid carnivores. With the small, isolated human population surrounding it, it wouldn't take many hybrid attacks to convince people to stop going in to the area, leaving it solely for the animals, providing food, shelter and water in abundance.   
“Clever beasties.” Mitch muttered. How many more of these pocket populations were there in the wild places between where they were and the barrier back in Colorado. The hybrids seem to be highly organized, and hyper-intelligent. Either that or Abigail had some way of communicating with her pets over a great distance and directing them accordingly. Still didn't explain her over all plan, but did add another piece to the puzzle. The ever expanding puzzle.

The meal over and discussions ended, it was time to go. The four remaining behind stood in the yard to see them off. Jamie opting to drive the first couple of hours, under the cover of darkness and via a route traversing back roads almost all the way.   
“Don't let it be another decade before we see you, Mitch,” said Peggy, giving her friend a warm hug.  
“I'll try not too.” Mitch replied, before shaking hands with Jim and Ethan. Jess gave him a tentative, but sincere peck on the cheek and he patted each of the dogs before strolling over to the unimog and climbing aboard.   
Jamie endured a round of hugs, even from Ethan, before almost skipping to the drivers side of the heavily armored truck, her delight in getting back on the road obvious. By morning they would be close to hopefully solving the water crisis, and be several hours closer to meeting up with their team.

In the darkness they rolled out of the farm and out of Turin, leaving the hamlet in their dust.

X-x-x-x-x

They had mapped out a route, one that followed the old highway seventy five to Sioux City, staying on it as it skirted the suburbs, eventually ending up far to the west of the city on the ominously named Military road, formerly the main road north west before the interstate was built. Avoiding the city put another hour on their travel time, not helped when they got lost temporarily in the back roads. With so many waterways criss-crossing the borderlands between Iowa and South Dakota, they had to use bridges, despite having a four-by-four. This also slowed them down while they scoped out the traffic, watching for anything military or police patrolling the roads. It didn't appear that there was a curfew, but there were not many vehicles about either, so they slipped through unremarked and more importantly without being stopped. 

Mitch took over driving once they were able to pull over. It was gone midnight and rain had started to fall, forcing them to lower their speed and making visibility difficult. He put in a CD and listened to the gravelly voiced male singer croon his way through a selection of bluesy songs, Mitch tapping out the rhythm on the steering wheel. So far they'd only encountered one or two vehicles on this particular back stretch, but now that road was ending and they would need to jump onto the next road heading north, the one-oh-five ending in Jefferson. 

Jamie was curled up in the passenger seat, covered by a blanket. He glanced over now and then, keeping the music down so not to disturb her. Not wanting to waste more time, and having already noted that Jefferson was not much more than a mile wide, he chose to cruise down main street, entering and exiting the tiny town in a matter of minutes. As the lights illuminated a strip of the crops fields on either side, he tooled the growling engine at a steady speed, mindful of the slippery conditions.  
They passed through the colorfully named Elk Point, the Missouri river to the south acting as the border between Nebraska and South Dakota. This time he didn't do a main street run, but used the grid layout of the small town to his advantage, cruising parallel to the main thoroughfare and avoiding the sheriff's station at its heart. Then they slipped under the interstate and started to shadow the railway line. At Burbank they took a hard right onto four-sixty-nine avenue that headed north, veering across country to once more mirror the interstate.   
“Thank the good men in city planning.” Mitch muttered to himself when they approached a highway heading west. He shut off the headlights, approached the cross over point, and paused to see what traffic was like. When it looked clear as the eye could see, he slipped the truck and trailer over the dual carriage way to the opposite side and put a mile between them and the junction before putting the headlights on full again.   
This maneuver was used at each major junction, where north crossed over west, the rain stopping somewhere around Beresford.

Once passed Sioux Falls it was two hours until they would arrive in Watertown, their destination for the night. Checking the map Jamie had drawn, they would have to leave the straight-as-an-arrow four-sixty-nine for a county road west, then another road north.

When they were safely heading north again, he stopped on the side of the road to stretch and take a piss. Standing beside the truck he stared up at the stars, the sky clear of cloud right over head. Having doused the truck lights, the milky way looked so much closer to Earth, sparkling like a diamond necklace. His business taken care of he walked back to the cab, but paused before climbing aboard.   
He'd never really taken a road trip across country before, preferring the relative comforts of flying over hours in a car, often stuck in a queue behind a gigantic truck and trailer. Now he almost wished the road was busy enough to provide for a queue, instead of the mile after mile of nothing.  
He chided himself for being irrational and climbed up into the cab.  
“Are we there yet?” A sleep voice followed by a tousled, red head emerged from the cocoon of blankets on the other side of the cab.  
“Nope. Just a pit stop.”  
“How far are we from Watertown?”  
“About an hour.” Mitch settled himself in his harness and flicked the headlights back on.  
“Shit!” Standing in front of the truck, in the middle of the road, were cattle. Reaching up, Mitch turned on the spotlights and he swore again. The lights showed an enormous herd spread out on either side of the road, and going as far ahead as the lights could reach. How the animals had managed to approach without making a sound was unnerving. Only minutes before he'd been standing, completely unprotected, as far as he knew alone, staring at the sky. Now there was a massive wall of cattle in front of them. Even as they watched the creatures further out started to move inwards, quickly surrounding the truck and trailer, enclosing the two people inside among an eerily silent crowd of bovines.   
Mitch turned off the spotlights and reduced the headlights to just the running lights. It made no difference, they remained surrounded by an unimaginable number of cattle.  
Jamie was now fully awake, starring wide eyed at the formerly empty roadway now full of watching eyes.   
“Mitch?”  
“Yeah. I'm thinking. What did Abe say about that hybrid and the egg?”  
“He said the hybrid ignored him and took the egg, leaving Dariela and their son alone as well.”  
“Yeah. You remember when I stuck the needle in the leopard cub?”  
“I remember. You think they know about the eggs we're carrying?”  
“Uhuh. I'm thinking that this lot are being affected by the water borne spores, that they've developed a mutation...”  
“Or the eggs we've got are able to send out a signal for help?”  
They looked at each other, faces illuminated by the dashboard lights.   
“Putting them in the fridge and lowering their temperature might have done just that.” Mitch hypothesized “Maybe the hybrids don't react well to extreme cold.”  
“That could be useful to know.” Jamie added. “That could also be the reason Jackson and the others headed for Canada.”  
“Great. Puzzle possibly solved, but what do we do now?” Mitch asked, frowning at the silent mob.  
“We give them the eggs.” Jamie reasoned. “Simply give them what they want.”  
“Dammit, I haven't studied them even closely yet. I couldn't tell you what type of hybrid they are!” His voice rose with his level of frustration. Despite the seemingly impossibility of it, the cattle pressed even closer to the truck, jostling it gently.   
“I think you have your answer,” Jamie whispered. She looked up at the hatch just visible in the low light. “Out the cab, across the roof, down to the tow bar and into the trailer.”  
“Oh, no you don't. I'm coming with you...”  
Not bothering with weapons, they undid the overhead hatch and climbed out onto the roof, crouching behind the row of spotlights and new air diverter, pausing to look over the sea of animals surrounding them.   
“Bloody hell, that's a lot of green.” Mitch exclaimed, viewing the cattle through the spare pair of night vision goggles. Jamie was already at the back of the truck, having negotiated the new roof storage, and getting ready to lower herself to the tow-bar  
Mitch hastily followed and helped her down.   
“Stay up there!” She hissed at him, staring out at the animals now at her height where she stood on the narrow triangle of metal attached to the trailer. “There's not enough room for us both.”  
He watched as she carefully unlocked the trailer door, moving slowly, several bovine heads turning to watch her, still without uttering a single grunt, moo or groan. Minutes later Jamie emerged with the containers he'd transferred the eggs too for the journey and to prevent them moving in the fridge.   
He looked over the backs of the surrounding creatures and sensed a shift, some of them moving.  
“Head's up, Jamie....I think something is coming to collect those.”   
She looked around and up, noting the direction Mitch was pointing. Carefully she crouched down and put the half a dozen small, plastic boxes on the cross bar, then stepped back. A low growl alerted her to the arrival of an enormous wolf hybrid, spines raised in a menacing show as it padded forward, eyes never leaving the woman in front of it.   
“Don't make any sudden moves, for God's sake.” Mitch cautioned her, watching the hybrid get closer until its nose almost touched the tow-bar With exquisite care it opened its huge jaws, exposing rows of lethal teeth, and picked up one of the boxes. It slowly backed away, never taking its eyes off Jamie, until it was swallowed up by the cattle.  
“Get your ass up here now, before another one arrives!” Mitch reached down and Jamie jumped. She was on top of the unimog and in his arms before the next hybrid appeared. Each time the creature took a box and disappeared into the silent mass of cattle, until the last one was taken.   
Their mission completed, the cattle started to move like normal, ambling away in all directions, some mooing, while others snorted as you'd expect them to. It was like watching some sort of bizarre flash mob, at the end of their routine, dissolving away into the night.   
Jamie still clung to him, the pair of them now standing on the top of a truck parked among crop fields with nothing to see all around them.  
“We did just see what we saw...didn't we?” Jamie asked, finally letting go her death grip on his arms.   
“I did, if you did.” Mitch shot back, blinking after removing the night vision goggles and staring into the darkness beyond the road.   
They stayed up there for a further fifteen minutes, but nothing happened. At length Jamie went down and relocked the trailer. Mitch also climbed down and walked to the drivers door, taking one more look around before stepping up into the cab.

“I need a drink. Break out the good stuff. I think this occasion demands it.”

x-x-x-x-x

Their arrival in Watertown was uneventful, which was a blessing after the night's adventure.   
They parked in what appeared to be waste ground behind the distillery, the buildings showing what they'd come to expect – no lights, no people. It was a couple of hours before dawn, so they secured the truck and settled in the back. 

Jamie had managed to make more room, using the extra storage, and the mattress allowed them room to spread out, within the confines of the sides of the truck. They didn't change out of their day clothes, not willing to be caught unprepared in possibly hostile territory. 

The plan was to approach the family that owned distillery and quiz them about their water supply, if they'd noticed any changes, or problems with it. Past that, neither knew. Mitch needed to have access to a proper lab – first to achieve drinkable, uncontaminated water, then to examine the animal samples – minus the hybrid eggs, to see what the contaminated water might or might not be doing.

Mitch, exhausted from the driving, and tense encounter on the road, dropped into a deep slumber with little effort. Jamie lay awake for awhile longer until the regular breathing beside her worked its magic and she slept. 

X-x-x-x-x

The sun was well up when they emerged. They discovered a local eatery, a truck stop that appeared to be open. Needing some local knowledge, they went there and were careful to order menu items that didn't require water as an ingredient or were cooked in.  
The waitress was friendly and happy to chat, now the early morning breakfast rush was over.   
Jamie asked her a number of question about what was happening in Watertown, the answers confirming that, for now, the population was healthy, the local hospital was busy but not unusually so, and were they sure they didn't want coffee with that?  
When they had finished, they strolled back to the truck and notice several cars pulled up outside the building, that hadn't been there before.   
“Time to see if we can finagle some help,” said Mitch.

They were in luck. The owner and his plant manager were both in the office, intrigued to hear their story. When Mitch asked about the water quality, the men got a little defensive, but when Mitch explained why he was asking, they looked suitably horrified at the potential damage such an organism could do to their business.   
“We source all our water from the glacial lakes, hence the name. Pure ingredients, pure taste.” Tony, the plant manager, told them. “We've kept up production on a smaller scale, just keeping up with demand. But transport is becoming unreliable, so we store most of what we produce, and just supply the local businesses for now.”  
The owner spoke up. “If there was a problem with the water, Tony would be the first to know. We test every batch before it gets anywhere near the equipment. What exactly are you expecting to find, up here?”  
“Can we go to your testing lab. It's easier if I show you, rather than try to explain.”  
Tony and Chas, the owner, took them to a room just off the front office. Mitch entered and lifted his head to sniff the air.   
“Home.” He stated, with a quick glance at Jamie.   
When presented with an wet-SEM electron microscope, Mitch pulled out his containers, snapped on gloves, and prepared his first sample for show. While he did this, Jamie quizzed the men about their knowledge of hybrids, had they seen one? Had they noticed any different animal behavior in the last week? Had they heard any reports from their neighbors or friends of strange cattle movements around the county.   
What Chas and Tony thought of the questions became moot when Mitch presented them with an image from the first sample of water at the site of the cattle poisoning.   
“That, gentlemen, is what we are tracking and need a way to remove from all drinking water sources.” Mitch told them. “There has been less concentrations as we moved north, and got further from the original source near Denver.”  
“You're seriously telling me this could be in our water?” Tony asked.   
“Yup. I can't prove it, but if you've seen the news from Omaha, they've suffered an extreme outbreak of a form of gastric flu, caused, I believe, by this critter on the screen. I've already trialled a number of ways to remove it, but most failed, or didn't produce enough clean drinking water to be worth a damn.”  
“So you've come here, because?” Chas asked.   
“I don't exactly have a condenser in my back pocket. If you're prepared to allow me, I'd like to run a series of test with your lab based equipment.”  
“To see if those, whatever they are, can be eliminated?”  
“That's the idea.”  
“And you've come from where, exactly?” Chas asked. Mitch indicated Jamie.   
“My lovely assistant will give you all the information you can handle.”

x-x-x-x

Jamie dozed in a patch of sunshine, seated in a comfortable chair in the corner of the lab. Tony was helping Mitch, the two men talking in low voices, mutually excited by what the samples were producing. They were testing each and every one, re-testing the theory regarding transference through the distillation process, retesting different processes, incorporating varying filters and temperatures, all noted, annotated, discarded or pursued. There were a selection of experiments in progress with half a dozen condensers set ups with an array of glass flasks so that the whole room looked like a mad scientists playground. Mitch was in his element.   
Chas put his head in periodically, talking to the two men, before leaving them to carry on. Jamie had mentioned about the Zoo next door, and Chas was going to organize an interview with the administrator of the park for the next day.   
When the two men had heard the story from Jamie of where they'd come from and who they were associated with, they were keen to get involved. Their business, their livelihood, their very lives could depend on whether Mitch could repeat his previous miracle of a decade ago. They were also impressed to have The Jamie Campbell in their midst, recognizing her celebrity status as a best selling author, both keen to invite her back to their homes and introduce their families.

“Godammit, another failure!” Frustrated at his lack of success, Mitch threw his pen on the bench top and kicked the stool away behind him. Tony peered through the microscope eyepiece, sighing when he confirmed what Mitch had seen.   
Jamie blinked at her lover as he paced in front of the windows, her rude awakening highlighted by the reminder from her growling stomach that they needed something to eat.   
“We need a break.” She announced, rising from the chair and stretching. “I'm hungry.”  
Mitch swung around, ready to snap her head off but met, instead, her wide blue eyes and steady gaze.   
Swallowing what he'd been about to say, he nodded, still frowning but knowing the truth when he heard it.   
“Yeah. What is the time, anyway?” A quick glance at his watch had him giving a small whistle of surprise. “No wonder. Diner?”  
Tony spoke up. “They only really open for breakfast. I'll take you back to my place for a meal. I've already spoken to Shirleen about the water, so don't expect anything more fancy than sandwiches.”  
“Sounds perfect,” said Jamie, grinning broadly.

The simple meal quickly turned into a full on barbeque, despite the cool afternoon. Chas and his family combined with Tony's, plus they invited several of their employees to the impromptu event. Despite not being a fan of crowds, Mitch was thankful for the meal and was happy to talk science with people who relied on it for their living, to produce the best product possible.   
Jamie was mobbed by the wives and girlfriends, quizzed relentlessly about her life, her book, the sequel, the characters and who they were based on. Several of the woman recognized Mitch from the descriptions in the book, marking him as a minor celebrity having starred in a best seller. He would look across the room, checking on Jamie, and end up wondering why several of the women were looking back at him, one even giving him a wink, which completely upset his train of thought.   
All the guests had been primed regarding the water supply, so nothing eaten had come in contact with anything other than bottled water dated before the hybrid escape from the barrier, and anything drunk was either the company brand or bottled soft drinks, batch dated as far back as possible. 

Conversation drifted through many topics, Mitch finding out more about the area from the anecdotes and tall tales of the people around him. He learnt that the winters were sometimes brutal, that the summers were often hotter than hell, that the local lake held boat races, and in the past was host to rum-runners during prohibition.

“When do you expect to confirm if the town supply is compromised, Doctor Morgan?”  
Mitch cleared his throat. “We're running a series of tests back at the plant. We'll know by tomorrow if there are any concerns with the water quality. Tony will keep you all in the loop and advise when we have an answer.”  
He also had to field question of why the news about the hybrids was not more widespread. He was quizzed about why he hadn't gone to the authorities first, why leave the public in the dark about the water, about the animals. Mitch started to feel he was under siege. Using the excuse of needing the bathroom he escaped into an upstairs bedroom for some peace. Jamie found him shortly after.   
“Tough crowd?” she asked, sitting beside him on the bed.  
“They're starting to ask 'those' questions.”   
“Oh. Why aren't the police all over it? Why aren't the council issuing warnings? Why are we here?”  
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, those ones.”  
“They're scared. I'd be asking them too, if I were them.”  
“Only, I don't have any answers. If they all knew the real truth, they'd never get to sleep at night.”  
“What is the real truth, Doctor Morgan?” A voice from the doorway interrupted the pair on the bed. “What aren't you telling us? What do we need protecting from?” More faces appeared behind the man in the doorway. Mitch and Jamie got to the feet.  
“Look...we're not keeping information from you because we don't think you can handle it...” Mitch tried to explain. “We're trying to find answers, find solutions...”  
Chas and Tony pushed their way to the front of the crowd.   
“Come on, back off, Dan. Don't start hassling our guests...”  
“They know something they're not telling us!” Dan protested, other voices joining in.   
Mitch lowered his head and spoke softly to Jamie. “Get ready, there'll be pitchforks and torches next.”   
Chas held up his hands. “Let's all go downstairs and settle down. I'm sure we'll be able to answer all your questions, but not here, not crowded into our spare bedroom.”  
The muttering group started to disperse and Jamie let go a breath she'd been holding.   
Chas turned to face them. “I'm sorry about that. They're just worried, and we've heard nothing but vague rumors and outlandish reports. The news channels have been unhelpful and we've had no notifications from the government one way or the other.”  
“Do you really think it's wise to let them know what is really going on?” Mitch asked. “Because it is likely, once the news is out, to cause widespread panic, looting, hoarding, shooting and general running amuck. I'm not kidding. Life as you know it, up here in sleepy Watertown, will change forever.”  
Jamie spoke up. “Mitch isn't exaggerating. With what we've seen and experienced in just our trip up here...well, there's a reason we travel in an armored vehicle.”  
Chas looked at his friend and plant manager, Tony. “You've heard what they have to say, what do you think?”  
“Doctor Morgan has a point. Some will panic, but if we don't know the worst, how can we prepare for it?”  
Several long moments passed, then Chas nodded. “We need to know what you've seen and heard. We need to have a chance at surviving whatever may be coming.”  
Jamie exchanged a look with Mitch. “I agree. What they do with the information is not for us to decide.” She watched Mitch's face and saw him nod his head fractionally. “We'll be down in a moment.”  
Chas and Tony turned to go, leaving the couple alone.  
“This is so not a good idea,” Mitch groaned. “They'll panic, blame us, the pitchforks will come out...”  
Jamie punched his arm to shut him up. “If we want their co-operation, if you want to have access to the zoo labs, we need to bring them onboard. We can't predict how they'll react...” she paused, Mitch giving her an arch look and snorting in disbelief. Jamie continued. “But we have to give them a chance, the same way we did for Peggy and Jim. If we don't, we're no better than Abigail.”  
Mitch let out a long breath and hung his head.  
“If this all goes tits up, I'll remind you of that statement, Miss Campbell.”  
Jamie smiled and kissed his cheek. “Time to put your Professor face on, Doctor Morgan. Blind them with science and save the world.”  
“Hah!” Mitch retorted, but he smiled back at her, kissing her deeply before pulling away. 

X-x-x-x

Mitch stared at the room full of strangers, their faces reflecting a myriad of expressions, from horror to fear, from anger to confusion. At least they weren't looking bored. That would have taken him right back to one of his lectures. 

“So there you have it, the whole enchilada. You asked for the truth, to the best of my knowledge, that is the unvarnished truth of the current situation. Maybe now you understand why we didn't want to pass those depressing little gems on to you.” Mitch finished, unable to prevent the cutting tone in his voice. He looked over to where Jamie stood, she looked back at him squarely, giving her silent support, telling him in her own way she had his back.   
He cleared his throat. “ Any questions?”  
The room remained silent for a brief moment, then erupted into a clamoring of voices, washing over where he stood like a breaking wave.   
Most of the questions centered on why they hadn't heard any of this, why the local government agencies were silent, why nobody was doing anything, other than Mitch and his team.   
His answers were mostly vague – they, the government and agencies, probably weren't aware of the true situation, the IADG wanting to limit the spread of panic among the general population. Somebody was doing something, evidenced by Mitch being in front of them. Again, the IADG were working with agencies from around the world to confront and solve the hybrid problem. He didn't know if they were aware of the water issues, but it was likely they were and working on a solution, as he was.   
Eventually the questions were asked and answered, to the best of his ability, and the room devolved into silence. Eventually Chas stood up.   
“What can we do to help you, Doctor Morgan?”  
Mitch looked surprised. “You're already doing it. Allowing me access to your lab at the distillery. Arranging for me to meet with the zoo administrator. All these things will allow me to isolate what is happening with the water borne spores and with the animal mutations. These are all important to finding the eventual cure, same as it was ten years ago.”  
“What about finding other scientists to help you find this cure?” One woman asked. “Surely having more people work on the problem will bring finding the final cure happen sooner?”  
“Possibly. If those scientists are fluent in the field of animal biology, microbiology, familiar with the previous animal mutations and the possibility of variations. We'd need brains that are studying the water ecology, the council probably has a specialist for testing the towns water supply, people like that. And those scientists need to be open to the idea of mutation, of asexual reproduction, of the existence of long distance communications between species, the list goes on.” Mitch paused.   
“Our team, who we hope to connect with soon, has those sort of scientists.” Jamie added. “They were the ones to find what we needed the last time, and we hope we will find the answers this time, as well.”  
Mitch spoke again. “There will be a way to stop or reverse what is happening in our ecosystem, but I can tell you this. It is going to get worse before it gets better. If what happened in Omaha, happens here, life will be difficult if not dangerous. Resources will become scarce, as you know already with the intermittent deliveries. Don't rely on your local council or government to know any more than you do, probably less.”  
Some one at the back of the room spoke up. “The end of the world as we know it?”  
“Pretty much!” Mitch shot back. The room remained quiet, shocked into silence.  
“Look,” said Mitch. “If we can find a way to provide uncontaminated water, that's a start. With that knowledge we can then share it with others, show them how to produce their own drinking water, or produce a consistent supply so that what happened in Omaha doesn't happen here.”  
After a moment, Chas got to his feet. “Doctor Morgan is right. One problem at a time. We get the water right, and then address all the other stuff, agreed?”  
Everyone in the room nodded or made sounds of agreement.   
Chas spoke again. “There you go. Unless there are any more questions?” He waited for anyone to speak up, but they didn't. “Right.” He addressed Mitch directly. “Let's get you back to the plant and get this water thing sorted.”

x-x-x-x-x

Mitch pushed back from the bench and took his glasses off, pressing his fingers to his eyelids. They felt gritty and sore from hours of starring through the microscope, squinting at computer screens and generally remaining open throughout the night under artificial lights.   
He replaced his glasses and wandered over to where Jamie lay, curled up under a blanket. He shook her shoulder to wake her. She emerged, blinking slowly, her mouth curling up int a smile.   
“You've done it.” She stated. Mitch nodded, waving her out of the chair. Once vacated, he slumped into the warmed upholstery and waved her back, to sit on his lap. When he had Jamie where he wanted her, he draped the blanket over them both and put his head back.  
“I have to run the test for a third time, just to be completely sure, but I think I've found a process that keeps them from transferring.”  
Jamie snuggled into his body. “I knew you'd find a way.” Lifting her head, she kissed him softly, Mitch reciprocating but without any heat in the embrace.   
“I'm so tired my eyelashes hurt.” He complained, eyes firmly shut against the overhead lights.   
“Then sleep. You've earned a rest.”  
His arm tightened around her, drawing her snugly against him. “I think I'll do that.”  
Within minutes he was out for the count. Jamie watched him slumber, stroking the back of her fingers against his whiskery jaw, tracing the outline of his lips and generally exploring his features, noting the creases at the corners of his eyes, the lines from frowning on his forehead, the indented nose where his glasses rested, the dark eyebrows matching the thick, black lashes hiding his eyes from her.   
“My beautiful genius.” She whispered.

x-x-x-x


	8. Zoo Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See previous chapters if you really must.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not employed in any of those previously mentioned professions, or any more familiar with radio's, guns or electronic equipment. You can add city water management to my list of things I don't know or have anything to do with and Park Rangers to my list of professions I'm not employed in. All mistakes, therefore, are due to my own inability to do the research properly.

With the discovery of a method to remove the hybrid spore from any water source, the distillery went into production. On testing the surrounding glacial lakes, they were found to have very low levels of contamination, and one with no perceptible contamination at all, but it was decided by all concerned that, regardless of the results, all water would be put through the purification process Mitch had devised, before being made available for use. It would take time to produce enough supply to meet demand, but it was a start. In the meantime, armed with the information, Chas took Mitch and Jamie to meet the Mayor and corporation, to apprise the authorities of what was heading their way.

“You know I think this is a bad idea,” Mitch muttered in an aside to Jamie.   
“And I told you, we don't have a choice. Chas explained all this.”  
“Explained, nothing. If the authorities don't already know, they won't want to know. And if they do already know...they'll only want to cover their butts and leave the rest to fend for themselves.”  
Jamie sent him a glare. “You are such a cynic. Not everyone is on the take and only in it for themselves.” She indicated with her hand their driver, Chas.   
Mitch's face worked, but he refrained from comment, unable to refute her logic with Chas in front of him. They were on their way to the Mayor's office, Chas having called and arranged to meet with those most likely to be affected by the news of the contaminated water. That included the chief of police, the city health inspector, the mayor and her deputy and the chief medical officer from the Prairie Lakes hospital.   
“That's quite a bunch of headliners,” said Mitch, when the line up was announced for the meeting. “How did you get them to agree to meet?”  
Chas had just shrugged. “I have my sources.”  
Now they were minutes away from the mayor's office, about to meet these city officials.   
“Should have taken the time to shave,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his two day growth.  
“They're here to listen, not judge a beauty contest.” Jamie chided.  
Mitch fidgeted with his glasses, then drummed a rhythm on his thigh, all signs of his nervousness. Lecturing to a class was one thing, convincing high-mucky-mucks that doom was on their doorstep? Not exactly his forte.   
“You won't be alone. I'll be there, and Chas will back you up. He's seen the proof of what you'll be saying.” Jamie tried to inject a note of optimism, but Mitch merely cast her a jaundiced eye before turning back to watch the buildings and people pass by.

x-x-x-x 

“Any questions?” Mitch asked, his voice hoarse from talking for a solid hour. Jamie passed him a glass, filled from a water bottle, to drink.   
The people ranged in the seats facing him were a daunting prospect. The mayor let her glasses dangle from her fingers. She spoke first.   
“So I am to understand that this hybrid spore, as you call it, has infested all the waterways south of us, and have probably reached one of our lakes?”  
“Yup.” Mitch watched her turn her head and whisper to her aide. “Which means your town water supply will shortly be contaminated as well.”  
One of the men raised his hand, Mitch knew him to be from the sanitation office. “And you reckon that nothing we do will get this spore out of our water, despite all the filters and chemical treatments we currently use?”  
“Yup.” He took another sip of the water. “Conventional scrubbing won't remove these from the water. The method I illustrated will.”  
Another man spoke up. “And these hybrid, you talk about. They're mutated animals?”  
“Not exactly. They were created by Abigail Westbrook. She used different animal DNA to make them in a laboratory. The base DNA can be anything from a wolf to a octopus. We've also seen that a hybrid can turn an ordinary mammal, like a dog or cow into a semi-hybrid.”  
“Semi-hybrid? What's that?”  
Mitch sighed. “A semi-hybrid is one where the animal looks normal, but its behavior is entirely abnormal for its species.”  
The group of officials turned to each other and talked among themselves. Mitch left the lectern and seated himself beside Jamie. “Can we go now?” he asked in a loud whisper.   
Jamie shushed him and turned to face the councilors The mayor was speaking.   
“We understand that you are an authority on this particular subject, Doctor Morgan, having some idea of your involvement in the animal..er..uprising ten years ago. Can I ask you why you've suddenly reappeared after all this time? It seems an unhappy coincidence that your return is at the same time that the hybrids have appeared. Can you explain this?”  
Mitch had dreaded this question, and slumped deeper in his chair. Jaime rose to her feet instead.   
“It is just that...a coincidence. Our team were brought back together some months ago, due to recent outbreaks of new hybrid species behind the barrier, plus worrying reports of other types of hybrids appearing around the world. We had all gone our separate ways in the intervening years. I became an author, as some of you know, a best seller. Other members of our team had gone back to a domestic life, while others were lending a hand with the IADG and other organizations It was Doctor Morgan that brought us back together. It was the IADG that asked for our help again to find out what was happening with the new hybrids. We just happened to be in Boulder, chasing down Abigail Westbrook, when the breach of the barrier occurred. It was pure chance that we discovered what was happening in the water, on our way to rejoin our team. They were forced out of Omaha, ahead of the outbreak there, and we hope to connect with them soon in Vancouver. To imply that we had anything to do with either the creation of the hybrids or seeding the water with them, is an affront to all we've lost and suffered – ten years ago, and more recently. If you don't believe what we say, at least admit to that openly. If you do believe us, then we need to be talking about how to manage this, to prevent what happened in Omaha, happening to the population here.”  
Mitch wanted to stand up and applaud her. Instead he stood up and pulled her into a hug, before they both found their seats again, Jamie very pink from her passionate defense of him and their team.   
The councilors looked a little stunned, so Chas stood up and spoke.  
“Look. You all know me, you know my company, you drink my Vodka. We have a stake in this place, in this city and so do our families, our friends. Most of what you've heard today came right out of left field, but it has been proved, without a doubt, to me, and to my plant manager Tony, who knows as much about water as anyone. This is real. This is happening now and we need to do something about it, or very soon we're all going to be either sick or over run. We need to get organized, get the news out, have something in place so that people don't panic and start shooting up the place. We have to avoid a rush of food and water, on medical supplies. Already deliveries are getting later and later, if this is spreading all over the states, it could be months before some supplies are replaced, if at all. The hospital needs to be ready to accept patients, medical facilities need to be alerted about what to look for, what symptoms to treat, how to treat them and so on. We need to get any business that involve using water to come on board and start testing and distilling water so that these spores don't get into the food chain. We need everyone to pull together if we're going to have any chance of surviving this.”  
Jamie interrupted him. “Has anyone heard anything about Omaha?” Has there been any news of other centers affected?”  
The group of men and women exchanged glances.   
“I've had bulletins, memos and emails hinting that something was going on.” The police chief rose slowly to his feet. “There's been reports about some strange things going on down south. Nothing specifically about Omaha, but word gets around. One of my sergeants has relatives down south. He requested leave. Said they were calling for help, for more police and army reservists to quell the looting and rioting.”  
The hospital administrator cut in. “We've had some odd reports of hospitals being asked to stop sending patients southward for specialist care. They're no longer accepting out patient referrals, and advising to stock up on certain medicinal items.”  
The mayor was nodding her head. “I thought it was just a click-bait story, but there was chatter on one of the forums I frequent, to do with city administration and other stuff. They were talking about evacuating a number of towns, everyone heading east, with stories about leaving their livestock behind or shooting them, same with their pets. It all seemed so bizarre, so fake-news.”  
“Running east won't help.” Mitch's gravelly voice spoke up. “Eventually this will spread all over the continent, even to the whole world, if the flying hybrids get going. There were nests discovered in every large land mass the world over. Most of them were found and destroyed, but the enemy we are up against is smart and determined. If I can't find a cure to reverse or halt the mutations overtaking the animal populations then humanity will meet its end far quicker than just dying out because we can't reproduce. If you want to survive then you have to think locally, not globally. Leave worrying about the global to us....to me and my team. You need to protect your water source, your food sources and your population. Nothing else matters. If you sit on your hands, then it will be Omaha all over again. You, your families and your friends will be reduced to fighting over scraps or dying of hybrid-borne dysentery before another year passes. It's up to you.” He turned to Jamie. “Can we go now?”

x-x-x-x

The trip to the zoo was a welcome relief. The mayor herself backed up Chas in contacting the administrator and asking that Mitch have free access to whatever he needed to study the animal samples he had with him.   
They rolled up in the unimog, without the trailer, and entered through a service gateway. Zoo staff were expecting them and directed them to the veterinary center. Jamie pulled the truck up to the doorway and they both climbed out, met by the whole team of both on duty, and off duty vets and keepers, all of them excited to meet Doctor Mitchell Morgan, savior of the animals a decade ago.  
Mitch accepted their adulation with a resigned smile, shaking hands with everyone before indicating what they needed unloaded from the truck. Willing hands quickly carried several chillers and boxes of equipment into the building, Mitch given a personal tour of the facilities so he could choose where he wanted to set up his lab.   
Jamie found she had her own fan following, news of her appearance having quickly done the rounds, several of the zoo staff holding hardcovers and paperbacks for her to sign. Afterwards she was persuaded to take a tour of the zoo, something she enjoyed, especially the wide range of bird species in the exhibits.   
Seeing the tigers, jaguars and rare snow leopard in their enclosures, she quizzed the zoo staff about what had happened ten years ago, if they'd had any escapes or problems with the animals when they displayed the defiant pupil mutation.   
It seemed that Bramble Park Zoo had escaped the worst, probably because of their relative isolation. There had been one or two incidences, but improvements to the enclosures had made them more secure and better designed to serve the animals needs. The zoo was not huge, but very active in their captive breeding program, having some success with the rarer animals.

Back at the zoo laboratory, most of the extraneous staff were gone, either about their duties or back home. Mitch was left with the senior vet and his small staff, all of them keen to help in whatever way they could. Mitch set them to preparing some of the samples, creating slides and taking thin slices to prepare for further testing. 

X-x-x-x-x

“You know, that was an inspired speech you gave. I almost believed it myself.”  
Mitch waited for a response, but Jamie seemed entirely focused on her lunch.   
“The way you laid out what happened, you wouldn't know I'd been stuffed in a resus-pod, pulled out on occasion to play God, then stuffed back in again to await a megalomaniac's pleasure.”  
Jamie continued to chew through the salad and bread, ignoring him.  
“In fact, any one hearing that speech would think I'm a hero, or something.”  
Jamie turned her head to look at him. “You are a hero.”  
Mitch shook his head. “Nope. I was just the lucky chump who pulled all the threads together and knitted a scarf. Any scientist worthy of the name could have done that.”  
Jamie finished her mouthful and brushed the crumbs off her lap. “Well, I think you're a hero. Doesn't that count?”  
“You're biased. You love me.”  
Jamie tilted her head. “What is this about, Mitch?”  
He shrugged and looked into the distance. “Hearing you create that fantasy, it made me ashamed of what I really did, all that time I was in the tank. I hate that you have to make up stuff when that question is asked. I hate that I don't know what I did, or was made to do, not even what surprises I cooked up with this twisted mind.” He tapped the side of his head, then looked down at the ground. “I just hate it, that you had to lie.”  
Jamie regarded him a moment, then slid her arm through his, tucking herself hard up against his side.   
“It was a buzz to have a chance to say nice things about you. Nothing I said was untrue. You did bring us back together. Rescuing you brought Clem to me. Jackson found us while following a different lead, then we called on Abe, who was already involved via his son and the hybrids.”  
Mitch glanced down at her. “And the bit about the barrier?”  
“They didn't need to know about the plane and Jackson. And it was a sort of co-incidence about the spores. We didn't know about them until we tripped over that reservoir. So I was mostly telling the truth.”  
Mitch gave a chuff of laughter. “I can see how you became a best seller, if you employed those same tactics in your book. I really must read a copy some time.”  
Jamie looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. “You mean you haven't already? I'm crushed.”  
“I know about the first one, but what about the sequels, how many are there?” He asked.   
“I wrote a few while you weren't around. One was about to be published when Clem found me. My publicist decided to hold off the official launch until I was available for chat shows, morning news, in store signings, book tours, all that sort of stuff.”  
“And you haven't had the time off to be available for any of that.” Mitch stated. Jamie lifted one shoulder.   
“Doesn't seem all that important right now. It'll all still be there after we save the animals and save the world.”   
A silence stretched between them. The bench where they sat was overlooking one of the exhibits, a number of colorful birds swimming about on the pond.  
“I know you changed the names in the first book, but did I feature in any of the others?” He asked.  
Jamie snorted in amusement. “Maybe. You'll have to read them to find out.”  
“Spoilsport.”  
They lapsed into silence again, watching the birds and the few people wandering the pathways around the zoo.   
Eventually their meal break was interrupted by a zoo employee telling Mitch the senior vet wanted to see him.  
“Duty calls,” said Mitch, getting to his feet and sauntering after the keeper. Jamie watched him until he rounded a corner and was out of sight.   
A ruckus amongst the water fowl drew her attention, the birds all hooting and quacking, some of them trying to fly, despite their clipped wings. On a hunch she looked skyward, seeing a dark, dense cloud of birds weaving and swooping very high up in the sky. She watched until they passed from sight behind a line of trees. The water birds in the pond settled down again, going about their business as if nothing had happened. Perturbed, Jamie made a mental note to mention it to Mitch.

X-x-x-x-x

Jamie drove them back to the parking lot, in actuality just across the road from the zoo itself. Mitch had his nose buried in a well thumbed paperback, the title one she knew well. Every now and then Mitch would let our a snort of something Jamie hoped was amusement, not derision. Despite her semi-toughened outer shell, she was still vulnerable to negative feedback. If Mitch hated it, she would probably take herself off somewhere for a good cry. The truck gave a small lurch as she parked it, Mitch raising his head to peer over the edge of the book at their location.   
“Home sweet home.” He announced, shutting the book and stuffing it in his coat pocket.  
“Don't you want to mark where you're up to?” Jamie asked.  
“No need.” Mitch retorted, making to get out of the truck.  
Jamie spoke in a rush. “Sowhatdoyouthink?”  
Mitch paused in jumping down to the ground and twisted to look back at her. “I'll let you know when I finish it.”  
His enigmatic reply made her thump the steering wheel. Infuriating man.  
As she prepared for bed, he was still reading, a torch set up to act as a night light. He was obviously a good half way or more through the story.   
“Are you enjoying it?” she asked, running a comb through her hair before climbing under the covers.  
“When I'm finished,” he replied in a monotone, never lifting his eyes off the printed text.   
Jamie had to content herself with the comfort of knowing he hadn't tossed it aside in boredom, or disgust, but was reading with a flattering level of concentration. He'd taken off his glasses to read in bed, holding the book up close to his face.  
Jamie tried again. “Where you up to?” she asked, trying to see the page or read any of the small print to get a clue.   
“Somewhere past half way but not near the end,” came the frustrating reply.   
In her head, Jamie screamed and pummeled him. In reality she pulled the covers up to her shoulders and turned her back on him.   
“Goodnight,” she muttered, her cold feet finding his warm leg. Mitch never twitched.  
“Hmmm 'night.”  
Resigning herself to sleep, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. The truck was mostly silent except for the regular and persistent swish of pages being turned. Mentally relaxing each muscle group, starting from her toes up, Jamie got to her shoulders when sleep over took her. 

“So?”  
“What?”  
“Mitch, so help me...”  
He flashed her a broad grin. “It was good.”  
She waited a beat to hear more. “And?”  
He gave her a one shoulder shrug. “You're a good writer.”  
Jamie felt each second that ticked by. Mitch reached for an apple and she swatted his hand away.  
“Oh no you don't. I want to know what your thought about the book?”  
“I told you. It was good. What else can I say?”  
“Mitch Morgan you are the most exasperating, infuriating, frustrating....” Jamie paused to think up further adjectives.   
“And I love you too.” Mitch finished for her. “You wrote a good book, I couldn't put it down.”  
“But you laughed.”  
He looked at her sideways. “Wasn't I supposed to?”  
“I don't know. What were you laughing at?”  
“Actually I was laughing at myself. I didn't realise what a pompous blowhard I was. You should have kicked me every time I spouted all that nonsense.”  
“You weren't pompous, just so much smarter than the rest of us.”  
Mitch made a derogatory sound. “Hah. And didn't I like to tell you all. I wish I'd known, I would have forced you to gag me.”  
“You weren't that bad. I had to embroider things a bit, so that nobody would truly recognize you, or the others.” She sighed. “Didn't work for Jackson, but I don't think that was the book, I think someone snooped through my notes on my laptop.”  
“So veterinary pathologist, professor Michael Maloney isn't me? Sure talks like me, does a nice line in snarky comments like me, has a taste for feisty women journalists, like me.”  
“Yes, it's you. But you were the only name that people, mostly, associated with the book in real life. And you were dead, so...”  
“So it didn't matter. Look I'm not dissing the book, it's a great read, lots of exciting daring do and close calls, you even had me almost crying at the end with my untimely demise and the epilogue.” He leant forward. “And I much prefer short, feisty redheads over tall, simpering blonds.”  
Jamie looked affronted. “I was never a simpering....well, yes, I did write myself as a blond, and I might have added some inches, but I never simpered.”  
Mitch looked away for a second, squinting his eyes as if thinking. “ 'oh, Michael,' Jess whimpered, clutching the arm of his shirt. 'That leopard looks about to pounce! What will we do?'” Mitch cocked an eyebrow. “A direct quote from chapter twelve.”  
Jamie had to laugh. “Whimpered, not simpered. There is a difference.”  
Mitch wagged a finger at her. “Next time we encounter a leopard, I'll clutch your shirt and you can be all manly and protect me!”  
Jamie giggled. “Only if you promise, cross your heart, not to simper. Otherwise the leopard can have you.”

x-x-x-x-x

With Mitch beavering away over at the zoo with his coterie of veterinary assistants, Jamie took the truck to explore the surrounding countryside and give herself space to think. The city held no attractions for her, happy to leave the local government agencies to organize themselves after the meeting with the mayor. Once the news was known by the twenty thousand or so inhabitants, it was likely the city would see many protests, town meetings and the like, and she was not going to be dragged into any of that. As soon as Mitch had his results from the various samples in his collection, they'd be on the road again, heading across the border to find their friends. Maybe it was all the years she spent flying back and forth, after Clem was taken by Max and Logan left, that made her restless and rootless, unable to settle anywhere for long. When Mitch had proposed settling down in a hamlet and playing house, her initial reaction had been to recoil and shout NO! But she hadn't. Certainly she had meant what she said, that they would revisit the idea when life settled down, but in reality, was that ever a likelihood?  
Her usually buoyant optimism had taken a hit when the whole debacle of the shooting brought some home truths to the surface. It still amazed her that she and Mitch were in such a good place right now, that they had found a way to overcome their collective darkness and find a path beyond, but recent events were taking their toll and she needed to find a way back to that optimism. Right now she was struggling to find a simple spark of hope.

Even if they found a cure for the animals tomorrow, and cured the sterility problem next week, there was still a huge chunk of life on Earth that would take time to come back to normal, whatever normal was. The population across the planet had been reduced, in some places, quite dramatically either by the natural process of old age and illness, or by instances of civil war and similar violence, all sparked by fighting over dwindling resources. The huge industry of farming animals and sowing crops was being neglected for the simple exercise of staying alive. Soon things would start to run out, hospitals would no longer be able to help when medicines, currently produced on an industrial scale, became unavailable. They would be lucky if government was able to retain any order in the bigger centers. Starvation was a real threat, loss of vital specialist in the medical field was a serious problem, the loss of skills the same across all the sectors of production and industry. Internet and communication was starting to fail in those places where it was hard to find coverage even when everything was working. Soon it would fail completely. Power would be next. The future looked grim. She could do the maths the same as anyone. Over one hundred and forty million babies were not born in the last decade, then over fifty five million people died each year totally five hundred and sixty five million in the last ten years alone. That made the planet less crowded by seven hundred and five million people across the globe in the last decade, and that's only accounting for the people registered as having died. In many of the poorer countries there wouldn't be any such records, just empty houses, graves, or even worse, scattered bones. 

She remembered in the early days, when they downloaded the truth about the Noah Objective, how it was going to take out all the animals, but also anyone with the ghost gene, resulting in countless millions of deaths. It might as well have gone ahead, because the end results were the same. With no children, the population of the planet was on a finite time scale. The last small group of children borne before sterilization, doomed to be the last men and women standing in about sixty to seventy years. Always supposing they stayed alive that long with the planet all but rising up to exterminate them. 

Jamie slammed on the brakes and put the truck in park. She had been on a road that followed the contours of one of the lakes, Kampeska, obviously a popular picnic destination and water sport playground in the high summer. Now, in the late spring, it was empty of all but a few tourists and permanent residents, the water rippled by a cold wind, isolated and appearing sterile of life. It suited her mood. She had seen a sign indicating a turn off leading to the waters edge, and took it. Most of the shoreline was lined with housing and often thickly wooded, so finding nothing more than a car-park and expanse of water and scrubby bush was a relief. According to a sign, she was parked in the Memorial Park Camping Ground. Thankfully no one appeared to be camping there. Arming herself with a pistol, she shut down the engine and climbed down to the ground. Her thoughts were thoroughly dark and depressing. She made her way down the concrete boat ramp to the waters edge and kicked at the pebbles there, her eyes narrowing to counteract the bright sunshine glittering on the water, the constant lap-lap against the shore a soothing cadence to her turbulent thoughts. Looking back around the curve of the lake, she could see that all the houses had jetties, some with boats, some empty. Most of the houses looked to be substantial, probably permanently occupied, others not so much. She could see the attraction of having a waterfront property, even if only a summer house for a few months. The changing effects of sun and cloud on the water and surrounding hills meant an ever changing vista, never the same one day to the next.

The breeze off the water was chilly but she welcomed the goosebumps raising her skin. 

The sound of another vehicle drew her attention and she turned to watch a car draw up. At first glance it looked like a police car, but closer inspection of the signage down the side revealed it to be part of the parks service, the man getting out presumably a park ranger. 

Irritated at being disturbed, she fought to keep a pleasant expression on her face as the man approached where she stood.   
“Can I ask if you have a permit for that firearm?” the ranger asked, his own still holstered at his side.  
“I do, but not on me. Given the times we live in, if I had one, would you have the means to check if its valid?” Jamie fired back. “I'm not planning on going hunting with a hand gun.”  
The man stood, seemingly relaxed, hands on hips. “Wrong season for anything other than turkey. You'd need a license for that too. Plus there's no hunting around this lake, you'd need to go further north or south.”  
Jamie ground her teeth behind her smiling lips. “That's good to know. Is there a hunting season on snakes?”  
The ranger looked perplexed. “There's only one deadly snake in the state, the rattler, and they don't live around here anyhow. Why do you ask?”  
“Because there's a sizable specimen to your right heading straight for you.”  
Jamie had to give the man points for not leaping into the air and dashing for his car. Instead he turned only his head in the direction she's indicated and watched the very long reptile slither over the gritty dirt towards him.   
“Elaphe vulpina, the Fox snake,” he advised, not moving, just watching as the yellowy brown creature passed within an inch of his shoes and started towards where Jamie stood. Like the ranger, she stood her ground, the snake reaching her and only pausing to flick a tongue at her boots before moving on, eventually to disappear among the large rocks edging a slightly raised bank.  
“That was the biggest I've ever seen of that species. Previously they've only been known to grow about three to four feet, but that was six, if it was an inch.” The ranger reached up to remove his hat, dry washing his face before putting it back on again. “As I said before, the rattler is the only venomous snake to worry about, the rest are smallish and only attack if you rile it up some.”  
Jamie started to walk back to the truck. “I'll bear that in mind.”  
The ranger watched her go, noticing the extraordinary vehicle she was preparing to climb into.  
“What is that?” The ranger called after her. “Army? Navy?”  
“IADG....International Animal Defense Group.” Jamie shouted back, slamming the door and locking it before gunning the motor and tooling smoothly out of the car park, the ranger not moving in her view of him via the side mirror.

Back on the road she gave a shiver, the image of the snake fresh in her mind. There were few animals that she had a fear of, polar bears being high up on the list, but snakes held a special horror for her. If the ranger hadn't been there, Jamie was pretty sure that snake would have been dead and shot to pieces before it got closer than ten feet to her. Scorpion's didn't phase her, she was even over spiders, but snakes held a special terror, reminding her of an ill-fated school camping trip and several harmless garter snakes let loose in her sleeping bag. The feel of those sinuous bodies slithering up her leg had her screaming the campground down, her dreams for weeks afterward the stuff of nightmares with quantities of snakes engulfing her in a sea of writhing, hissing, twisting, scaly bodies. Even thinking about it gave her the shudders. Which sat rather incongruously with her recent experiences – hacking her way out of a giant snake that had swallowed her whole, that was something to tell the papers, and then chasing another of the same species, let loose by Max, around the plane. That one she qualified as necessary to save Mitch, and for that she'd fight a pit full of vipers if necessary. She had the skills. 

Pressing down hard on the accelerator, she raced around the lake, wanting nothing more than to find Mitch, yank him into the cab, hook up the trailer and get the hell out of Dodge. 

X-x-x-x

Jamie was so intent on hooking up the trailer, she didn't notice the police car slide into the area in front of the truck.   
“Move slowly. Do not reach for your gun. Put your hands up where I can see them!” The deep, unknown male voice giving instructions was only a few feet from her and she seriously contemplated taking her frustrations out on him, but common sense won out instead, reminding her that Mitch was still at the Zoo.  
“What seems to be the matter, officer?” She asked, raising her hands above her shoulders and placing them atop her head.   
“It appears there's a warrant out for your arrest, yours and your partners. Plus this vehicle is listed as an illegal road user and needs to be impounded.”  
Jamie turned around to face the man, her hands still on top of her head. “If you care to call the mayor, you'll find that me and my partner are here on official business. You police chief knows about us, call him!”  
“We can do that down at the station. Walk slowly towards me and place your hands on the bonnet of my car, please.”  
Jamie fumed, her muscles tensing in preparation to fight her way out. Turning as instructed she walked the short distance to the police car, still calculating in her head ways to disable and disarm the officer.   
“Move your legs apart and don't make any sudden moves. I will taser you if provoked.” She complied, gritting her teeth when the man roughly patted down her legs, finding the knife she habitually kept down her boot, also removing the pistol at her hip.   
“Are you concealing any other weapons or sharp objects about your person?” The officer asked, pulling her arms behind her back and locking cuffs about her wrists.   
“Nope. As I said before, just call the mayor and ask her about Jamie Campbell and Mitch Morgan.”  
“I'll do that, but for now, you have the right to remain silent, if you choose.....”  
Jamie didn't listen any further, her frequent run ins with the law over the years meant she could recite the Miranda rites probably better than the officer himself. When he finished speaking he grasped her arm above the elbow and started to move her to the back of her car.   
“What exactly are you arresting me for?” Jamie asked, keeping her limbs loose and relaxed.  
“For carrying a weapon without a permit, for driving a vehicle with no license plates, speeding in a twenty five mile an hour zone, for having no identifying ownership papers or drivers license, possibly stealing said vehicle, and shooting a police officer.”  
Jamie started when she heard the last part. “Hey....I never shot a police officer?”  
“Nebraska state troopers say otherwise.” He pressed on her head to get her into the back seat.   
“Did he die?!” Jamie shouted, infuriated. “Was he even wounded?”  
“Try and stay calm, ma'am. This will all be sorted out at headquarters.”  
Glaring daggers at the back of the officers' head, Jamie slumped back against the upholstery, wrinkling her nose at the sour smell left by the previous occupant, apparently someone who liked their whiskey but couldn't hold it worth a damn. 

x-x-x-x-x


	9. Catch and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same blurb, different chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Nope, still no wiser than the last time. Expect a little Mitch Whumpage in this chapter. And yes, the entire book on police procedures regarding arrests and whatnot has been thrown merrily out the window...but there is a reason for that, so forgive me my artistic license in playing fast and loose with the law. Hopefully no one from the Watertown SD PD is reading this. If they are, my apologies.

Jamie drummed her fingers on the surface of the metal table and fumed quietly. It appeared that the mayor and corporation, including the police chief, were unavailable to clarify her's and Mitch's position as saviors of the world, sans permits, licenses and the rest. The alert about them shooting the trooper in Nebraska still stood, even if everything else was ignored, and that could end up seriously cramping their style. With the way things were going in the world, the entire justice system could collapse in an instant, once the real picture was brought to everyone's attention.   
Unfortunately until they could get hold of the police chief to clear the way, she was stuck in an interview room, shortly, she imagined to be joined by Mitch. She laughed softly at the likely scene of officers attempting to arrest Mitch while he was in the middle of something in the lab. At least they had taken the cuffs off her wrists.  
Her stomach growled in protest at how long it had been since breakfast, the meal largely consisting of fruit.  
“Hey, can I get something to eat in here?” She called out. “And a bathroom break wouldn't go amiss!”  
Minutes ticked by so she got up from the hard metal chair to pace, banging on the door each time she passed it. One wall had a glass mirror, Jamie ignoring it, knowing there was probably someone on the other side, or maybe just a camera, recording everything she did or said. The opposite wall had a window, high up near the ceiling and narrow, letting in the minimum of natural light. The only furniture was the requisite metal table, bolted to the floor, and three metal chairs. One on one side, two on the other.   
Feeling an urge to smash something, she double punched the door when she passed it, her knuckles protesting but the release of energy soothing the hurt. Almost at once the door opened and she swung around.  
“Mitch!” Ignoring the police officer entering behind him, Jamie launched herself into his arms, Mitch gathering her close and burying his face in her hair.   
“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Mitch asked, his eyes doing a quick inventory of her body.  
“I'm fine. You?”   
The investigating officer shuffled his papers and cleared his throat. “If you'd sit down, both of you, we can get through this as quickly as possible.”  
“Did you call the police chief again? The mayor?” Jamie asked, she and Mitch sitting down opposite the officer. “Why am I still here?”  
Mitch turned to her, giving her a crooked smile. “Kinda familiar, being back here again.” He whispered in an aside, ignoring the man on the other side of the table.   
“And it will have the same outcome.” She stroked his cheek, then turned to glare at the detective.   
“Miss Campbell, your name crops up several times in the files – breaking and entering, assault, theft and more recently murder?”  
“Alleged offenses, none of them stuck. None of them made it past the interview stage, just to clarify.” Jamie retorted. “And why arrest Mitch? He's done nothing wrong.”  
“Yes. Professor Morgan.” The man looked up from his paperwork. “It says here you're dead.”  
Mitch winced and raised one of his fingers. “Ah. Yes. About that...”  
“He was reported dead, but he wasn't....dead. We just didn't know at the time. There was never a body.” Jamie explained.  
The officer raised his eyebrows. “Dead, but not dead. So where were you?” He looked at Mitch.   
Mitch shrugged. “I thought I was dead, but apparently someone else decided to revive me. So here I am...alive!”   
The officer clasped his hands together on top of the paperwork. “Not officially. There is no record of your...return to the living. You have no current driver's license, no current passport, no current abode, no credit cards, no income and no records past those of ten years ago. I do have a death certificate. Care to fill in some of the gaps in your description of where you were all that time?”  
Mitch opened his mouth but Jamie spoke first. “Look up a Charles Duncan. That might shed some light on where he was, and what he was doing.”  
The officer looked down at his paperwork and frowned. “Charles Duncan. I'll do just that.” He rose to his feet. “Don't go anywhere.”  
Jamie also got to her feet. “Hey, I asked for something to eat, and a bathroom break. Unless you want me to squat in the corner, that had better be soon.”  
The man paused at the door and gave her a tight smile. “I arrange something.” Before shutting the door behind him.   
Mitch waited a moment before turning sideways to the table and facing Jamie. “Doesn't this all seem a little hinky to you?”  
Jamie gave him a look. “Hinky? Is that a scientific term?”  
“When they came to pick me up, they didn't arrest me they told me you had been arrested and I was to come down to the police headquarters to sort it out. What did they arrest you for?”  
“Apparently they had a bulletin from Nebraska about the trooper we....encountered, while we were there. They say I shot him.”  
“With a dart gun, not a bullet. After a nice nap he would have been no worse for wear. I should know, having been shot with one myself. We both have.”  
Jamie smiled. “So, apart from pissing off the trooper and riding around in an unlicensed vehicle, they've got nothing to hold us on.”  
“Damn straight. Hence....hinky.”  
“I know. But how else do you think we can find out what Charles Duncan may, or may not have been doing for the past ten years?” She arched a brow and waited for that to sink in.  
Mitch looked stunned. “By getting yourself arrested?”  
Jamie shrugged. “Extreme, I'll admit, and I didn't think about it until after the officer brought me here, but I thought – why not? Let them bring the information to us, instead of us having to find a way to hack into the database and see what he...or you...have been up to?”  
Mitch stared at her for a moment, then smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Why do I keep forgetting what a bloody marvel you are.” Leaning forward he kissed her, lips clinging for long moments before they parted. “Did they impound the truck and trailer?”  
Jamie shook her head. “I don't know, but I'm telling you this. When we're free to go, I want a letter or document or something from the person or persons highest up the food chain, that clarifies that it, and we, are on official business and not to be detained because we don't have some effing permit, or license plate or some other bureaucratic nonsense preventing us from saving the world.”  
Mitch nodded. “Totally agree. A free pass to get out of jail could be useful, too.”  
The door opened and a female office entered, carrying a tray with wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water. She looked straight at Jamie. “You need to use the bathroom?”  
Mitch waved to Jamie as she left with the policewoman, the door shut and locked behind them.

Jamie wasn't back yet when the investigating officer returned, carrying a folder that looked loaded with paperwork.   
“That all about me?” Mitch asked, slouching back in his char. 'I don't remember being that bad”  
The man gave back a tight lipped smile. “Not you, precisely, but a person matching your description, under the name of Charles Duncan, has compiled quite a dossier of information from a wide number of enforcement agencies. Many of those agencies are not based here, in the States.”  
Mitch smirked. “I do get around. So tell me....what is this all about? If Jamie and I are such wanted felons, why haven't we been processed? No fingerprints taken, no photos in front of the wall, no statements...” Mitch counted off a finger for each point. “No lawyer, you can't reach your own police chief, who – I might add – could have this wrapped up with a simple phone call.”  
The detective leant forward. “We did reach the chief, why do you think you're in here and not in county lock up right now.”  
Mitch frowned. “If you spoken to the chief, then what's with the interrogation. If you know why Jamie and I are here, why haven't you let her go, why go through this pantomime?”  
Before the detective could speak, the door opened and Jamie was returned to the room, seating herself beside Mitch.  
“So....what did I miss?” She asked.   
“Apparently Duncan is known to the police....internationally.” Mitch informed her.  
Jamie looked at the folder the detective had his hands resting on. “I'd love to see what's in that.”  
The detective smiled, thinly. “I'm afraid that is classified for the time being. All I can say is that between the pair of you, you've racked up quite a rap sheet.” He tapped the point of his finger on the top folder. “This collection of criminal dealings alone would see you locked up for a considerable time, Professor, Miss Campbell.”  
Mitch raised his eyebrows, then burst out with a harsh laugh. “You want to lock us up? This is nuts. Come on, there's something else going on here. Is this Abigail's doing? Is this something that crazy maniac put in place to stop us?” Mitch leant across the table. “She won't fucking win. We know about the water, we've found a way around that, the team are working on a cure for sterility, and soon I'll find a cure for the animals as well. Tell that vicious bitch her days are numbered!”  
The detective stared back at him, stone faced, Jamie watching him closely.   
“He's right, isn't he. Mitch is right.”  
Not giving either of his prisoners an answer, the detective got to his feet, the folders tucked under his arm. “You'll be taken from here to the lock up. From there you will await transportation to the Codington County detention center...”  
“You can't do that, I want a lawyer! This is illegal, you haven't processed us yet!” Jamie leapt to her feet, Mitch beside her.   
“You can't just lock us up for no reason?” Mitch argued, moving around the table.   
“If you continue to resist you will be restrained.” The detected started to shout. “Officer needs assistance!!” The door burst open and seemed to fill with black uniforms, Mitch finding himself hustled backwards by three burly men until his back hit the wall, driving the air out of him.   
Jamie was trying to fight off three other officers but instead was overpowered, cuffs once more snapped on her wrists.  
“You can't do this!” She yelled. “We have rights!!”  
The detective watched the duo be secured and hustled out of the room, still shouting, their protests muffled as they were dragged, still struggling, down to the cells.  
“Make sure they are in separate cells, they are denied any communication and make sure they aren't carrying any concealed items.”  
“What the hell did they do?” asked one of the officers.  
“They are international terrorists, wanted for crimes overseas and domestically.” He tapped the folder under his arm. “I have to get in contact with the FBI and Interpol to have them collected. It may take some time, so we'll move them to solitary at the detention center once I have clearance.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, and if they won't be quiet...there is an order to allow us to gag the offenders if necessary.”  
“Shit. I'll let Frederick know.”

x-x-x-x

Jamie paced the cell like a caged tiger. Back and forth, back and forth. She knew exactly how many steps took her from one side to the other, and around the perimeter. Furniture was a thinly padded bench along one wall and a steel toilet/sink combination in the corner. No comfort, no privacy. No Mitch.   
They had been placed in separate cells, side by side, initially, but just minutes ago Mitch had been moved to a cell beyond her sight and hearing.   
The assertion that Abigail Westbrook had something to do with their current predicament was becoming more and more like a possibility.   
If it was just about not having the right paperwork, they'd have been issued with a summons to appear, or issued an infringement and fined. She wished now she'd never said anything about Charles Duncan. Knowing that Mitch still fretted in silence over what he may have done, she thought this would throw some light on the issue. Having drawn a blank herself when trying to find out about him, she had hoped getting the police to do the leg work would pay dividends. Instead it had backfired spectacularly in her face, probably ending in a lengthy incarceration for them both. She didn't fear for herself, she had enough skills to take care of anyone, male or female that tried to take advantage of her, one on one, but Mitch? He wouldn't last a day if he ended up in the general population of a detention center. Even as the robotic Charles Duncan he hadn't been able to shoot straight, Duncan also falling foul of Jamie's combat skills when they fought to get the bio-device. Mitch was twice her weight, for goodness sake, if he'd had a tiny bit of training he should have been able to subdue her easily, instead it was the opposite.   
Jamie shook her head. He wouldn't last an hour, let alone a day. Somehow she was going to have to get them both out of jail. 

X-x-x-x-x

“Sorry, no visitors.” Chas stared blankly at the officer.   
“No visitors? I thought they were brought in for questioning over traffic violations?”  
The officer checked his notes. “You'd have to speak to the investigating officer, Detective Morris.”  
“Is he available?” Chas asked, tapping his fingers against the counter top.   
“Sorry, sir. Detective Morris is out of the office right now.”  
Chas chewed his lip. “Is there any one else handling their case, that I can speak to?”  
The man shook his head. “Detective Morris is the lead officer. You can only speak to him.”  
“Fine. When do you expect him in the office?”  
“Couldn't say, sir. There's an incident at the city administration building. He'll be back when that's taken care of, I expect.”  
Chas nodded and pushed away from the counter, his thoughts whirling with questions.  
Leaving the police building, he got back in his car and pulled out, heading for whatever was going on at the mayor's office. If anyone could sort out the mess, she could. 

X-x-x-x-x

Mitch sat on the edge of the cot and contemplated his boots. It had been hours since he'd last seen Jamie, hours since he'd seen anyone. He'd given up yelling for attention, for a lawyer, for the mayor or anyone he could think of that would help them. He'd yelled abuse, warned of dire retribution, but in the end only wore out his voice. Under the unceasing glare of the neon strip lights, he didn't notice when day slipped into night, his stomach growling to itself in protest at the lack of nourishment. He scooped up water from the hand basin, but that did little to quell his insides.   
He worried about what was happening to Jamie, if she was coping okay, if they'd fed her, whether they'd tried to take advantage of her small size, if they assaulted her, did those apes hurt her.  
His brain buzzed with a dozen horrible scenes of what could be happening until he thought he'd go mad. To divert his thoughts he started to list the animals at the zoo, breaking them down into their scientific classifications – kingdom, phylum, class, order, sub-order, family, genus and species. To make it harder he listed the animals alphabetically rather than by species, challenging his brain when it faltered. When he ran out of zoo animals, he listed the various steps needed for different procedures, adding in equipment required for each and the time needed for results. All of this designed to deter him from worrying about her. When the lights went out he sat in the dark, listening for anything, for a clue to what was happening beyond the seclusion of his cell. When the darkness continued and still no one came to check on him, he lay down on the thin pallet and tried to sleep.  
At some time during the night he awoke to the smell of smoke, his tiredness dropping away as panic speared through him. He shouted, banged on the bars with one of his boots, yelled himself hoarse but still had no response. The prospect of burning alive, locked in a cage, spiked chills down his spine. Worse were the images his over active brain supplied of Jamie suffering the same fate.   
Minutes passed and nothing happened. The smell of smoke didn't worsen and there was no sound of crackling or any indication that a fire was nearby. At length the adrenaline leached from his blood and he slumped wearily on the hard bed, his arm covering his eyes. They'd taken his glasses, along with anything else he'd had in his pockets. He could see enough to get about, but nothing was sharp, everything fuzzed out of focus, like looking through a thin veil.   
When daylight finally arrived he thought then, surely someone would come to check on him, bring him breakfast...something. They didn't.   
Panic spiked again. This was beyond a simply lack of attention, this was abandonment. He'd been left alone, no food, no contact, no chance of anyone hearing him or even knowing he was there. Fear slid icily into his brain and settled there.   
He started to calculate how long he'd last with only water to sustain him. It was well documented that hunger strikers could last on water alone as long as a month, even longer depending on body mass. He pinched the skin around his stomach. He wasn't skinny, but he wasn't heavy either. Give or take he'd survive a month easy. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it was possible. With that cheery thought he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, preferring to think about every time he'd made love to Jamie, than the prospect of starving to death, forgotten in a police cell.

X-x-x-x-x

The news about the water borne spores broke and the streets filled with locals, protesting and demonstrating against restrictions in place on the town water supply. Despite the information given and warnings, people didn't listen or didn't understand what needed to be done. The subsequent news about the hybrids only added fuel to the conflagration, the population not willing or able to look beyond the possibility of surviving. Added to the general mayhem was news that the mayor was dead, along with the police chief and other city officials when a gunman opened fire, escaping in the ensuing panic. The police force was under siege trying to prevent looting and enforcing a curfew, along with the creation of regular patrols, backed up by a warning that anyone caught outside after curfew could be shot as a looter. It stretched the number of officers to the limits. Some left their posts to protect their homes and families, others left to evacuate themselves to somewhere else in an effort to escape the coming violence. Days of street fighting, arson, home invasions and mayhem meant that the usual checks and paperwork went undone and in some cases were lost forever. 

X-x-x-x-x

Jamie quizzed her guard about what was happening beyond the walls of the station. News was intermittent and dependent on who was in charge of her, but eventually she learned that Chas' prediction that if nothing was done the people would panic and start shooting, was coming true. Gun fire was a constant background noise. With the central police station positioned in the main business district of the city, it was also central to or near the worst of the violence. She had heard about the mayor and police chief, adding it to her store of conspiracy theories involving Abigail Westbrook and her ability to fuck up whatever their Team was trying to do. Without Mitch's input in regards the animal mutation reversal, they would struggle to make headway, even with his notes from the previous outbreak ten years ago. Everything was different now, the stakes were higher, the eventual outcome if a cure wasn't found, that much grimmer. Even if babies could be born again, in a world reduced to little more than a stone age feudalism, what hope was there? For anyone.   
Given that she had a regular guard and supply, if small, of food and information, it never occurred to her that Mitch might not be in such a happy situation. She assumed he was just along from where she was being held, not within shouting distance, but not without care and attention. If she'd known the true situation she would have murdered anyone who came close, making her escape as soon as possible to break them both out of there. Instead she made herself into a model prisoner, befriended the guards, and gradually worked her way into getting released. Detective Morris hadn't returned in the days following, but neither were orders processed to move her or Mitch to the local detention center, as far as she could make out. The police station was in such of a flap, she wasn't even bored that much, able to watch some of the action either from the limited view outside her cell window, or via the door at the end of the row of cells, which was sometimes propped open when the guards were needed elsewhere.

 

x-x-x-x

Mitch heard the gunfire but it barely registered. He lay on the thin mattress, waiting for the over head light to go on again. Daylight filtered through the high, narrow barred window but he couldn't see clearly enough to tell what the weather was like outside. Not that it made a scrap of different to him. The lighting was the only constant. It came on during the afternoon and went off, he supposed, around nine at night, regular as clockwork. Not that is stopped him losing count of the days he'd been in the cell. It had to have been a week, at the very least. He had a routine down pat. As soon as he woke, usually around dawn, he drank deeply, thankful that the water still ran clear and plentiful. At first he'd been restless, bored, but as the days passed, he became resigned and lethargic. He slept, hoping that this time he'd dream of Jamie, dream of them together somewhere, but always he awoke to the same grey walls, same metal bars, his situation unchanged. One morning he tried to get upright but his arms failed him, flopping him back onto the thin mattress. He licked his dry lips and tried again. This time managing to stay upright but shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Panting, he levered himself upright to shuffle over to the sink. There he let the faucet run, scooping up water and letting it trickle into his mouth and down his throat. It helped to dispel the shakes for a little while. Turning the tap off, he shuffled back to the bench and lowered himself on to it, changing his position to relieve the pressure on his hips and shoulders. Soon his body would start devouring itself just to keep his brain functioning. He wondered what would give out first. He put imaginary money on his heart being the first to fail, but then again his semi-alcoholism could mean his liver would give up the ghost. Either way, life was spiraling downwards, his will to keep going ebbing each hour. 

x-x-x-x-x

Jamie was finally released when it became impossible to provide a guard for the cell block. It was seven days since she and Mitch had been put behind bars. Despite wanting to rail at the men and women still manning their posts, she kept her rage to herself and signed whatever was put in front of her, if it got her out of there sooner. When she asked about Mitch no one had an answer. Someone said he'd been released days before, that he'd returned to the Zoo where they picked him up. Someone else said they hadn't seen him in days.   
Jamie hurried out of the station and started to run. She ignored what was going on around her, the evidence of violence, the burnt out cars and rubble strewn everywhere. She only had one purpose in mind and that was to find Mitch and then get them transport out of the hell that was Watertown.   
When she finally jogged up to the zoo, the gates were chained and padlocked. She shouted and rattled the gate continuously until someone appeared. The keeper had a rifle and didn't drop it until he got close enough to recognize her. When Jamie asked about Mitch the man looked blankly at her.  
“Haven't seen him since the police took him away. That was just before all hell broke loose. We still have his stuff, the samples are all safe, as are the reports he asked for.” He pointed to the chains and padlocks. “We had to do that to keep the public out. They came here wanting to shoot everything.” He gave a humorless laugh. “We might as well have let them do that. We're running out of food, and will need to shoot some of the herbivores to keep the carnivores alive. Isn't that the craziest thing you've ever heard?”  
Jamie shook her head. “Not the craziest. You might want to reverse that thinking. Keeping the top predators alive will only make matters worse if they are turned into hybrids. If I had to make a choice, I'd put them all out of their misery. Eventually all the water will become compromised and then no animal will be safe, no matter how benign they may be now.”  
The keeper looked horrified and started to back away from her. “I can't do that.”  
Jamie gave him a look of understanding. “Good luck then. If I find Doctor Morgan we'll be back to collect those samples.” She turned away and started to walk across the road to the distillery.  
Chas and Tony, along with several of their employees were working in the factory, still producing clean water despite the chaos in the city. Chas ran over when he saw Jamie, embracing her in a hug before standing back to look at her.   
“Are you alright? I tried to get in to see you both, but I was stonewalled.”  
“Thanks for trying. Have you seen Mitch at all? They told me he'd been released days ago, but he hasn't been to the zoo, so I guess he had to come here.”  
Chas shook his head. “Sorry. I assumed he was still locked up.”  
Jamie worried at her thumb. “I haven't seen him since they separated us into different cells. If he was released, where would he go?”  
“What about your vehicles? Would he try to get them out of the impound?”  
Jamie frowned. “I wouldn't have thought so, but who knows. Can I borrow a car?”  
Chas looked at her in surprise. “How did you get here?”  
“Ran.” Jamie stated.   
“I'll drive you.”

Jamie stared at the gutted building. They were parked outside the police impound yard, twisted metal and blackened timber wreathed in spirals of grey smoke. The fence around the yard was bent and folded in places, the main gate laying on the ground, obviously run over repeatedly by vehicles being driven out of the impound. This was the third business on the list, their search for the armored truck and trailer proving frustrating. The first two businesses had been undamaged, but abandoned. A quick search of the yard had been fruitless, with only junkers currently stored there. This one in front of them was supposed to be the largest and most frequently used by the police, but it appeared that if the truck had been there, it was gone now.  
“Be careful!” Chas cautioned when Jamie walked forward to inspect the damaged impound further.   
“I just want to be sure. Sound the horn if you need me back in a hurry.”  
Stepping over the flattened gates, she walked further into the yard, avoiding the smoldering remains of the office. Several sheds butted up against the back fence so she went to investigate. The smell of burnt rubber was cloying and she wrinkled her nose, coughing when a waft of smoke crossed in front of her. The first shed was obviously a workshop, the place cleared out of tools and equipment, a half completed car still up on the lifter, minus its engine.   
She proceeded to the next, finding it in much the same condition, a couple of pending classic cars, still covered in dust sheets, left behind. Outside she shaded her eyes, the smoke catching at the back of her throat. Between the smoldering pile and the sheds was a narrow alleyway, wide enough for a vehicle but not well traveled. Weeds were pushing up through the cracks in the concrete. She walked into the deep shade cast by the workshop and blinked when she came out into the sun.  
“Yes!” Her hiss of triumph was tempered by the state of the truck and trailer. It had been stripped of everything they'd loaded on to it. All the rope, chain, cable – all gone. On checking inside the cab she let out a moan of disappointment, the mattress was gone as well. All their personal items stripped away, the cab lacking all the gadgets and gizmos as well as the guns and ammo. The trailer was the same, emptied of everything.  
“Dammit.” She hit the metal wall, making a hollow sound. Climbing out of the trailer she checked all around both vehicles, not seeing any obvious evidence of tampering or attempt to dismantle it. She assumed that whoever did the clearance intended to refit it for themselves or sell it as is. “What did those rat bastards do with our stuff?” Several shipping containers were being stored along the chain-link fence line. All had substantial bolts keeping them locked shut. She ran back to the front of the property and signaled to Chas.   
“What is it?” Chas asked, when Jamie came level with the cab of his ute.   
“Found the truck, it's around back. They've taken everything out of it, but our stuff may be in a shipping container. I need bolt cutters.”  
“Get in. I'll drive us around to the truck. Just so happens I might have some bolt cutters in the toolbox.”

Chas used the cutters to take out the padlocks and Jamie swung the doors wide.   
“Bingo!” Sure enough the container was full of everything take from the truck, including Mitch's beloved mattress. Chas eyed up the stuff.  
“Look, you need some willing hands getting all this back on board. Let's go back to the plant and bring some people back to help out.”  
“Sure. But I'm not leaving the truck here to be taken by whoever stripped her in the first place.”  
Chas looked taken aback. “You still have the key?”  
In reply Jamie rummaged among their belonging and produced a knife that she then used to cut a slit in the side of the mattress. From the hole she produced a pistol, spare keys and a glasses case. “In case Mitch has lost his glasses.” She explained.

X-x-x-x

The return run included several people and more tools. With the sun setting, the people from the distillery helped Jamie re-equip the unimog, reloading the trailer with all their loose gear, and re-securing the weapons in the drivers cab, along with the missing gadgets and gizmos. It was all accomplished in record time, so that before the light from the sky died completely she was driving the truck out of the ruined impound yard, followed by the team from the distillery, Chas in the rear. 

Back at the plant, Jamie gnawed in her thumb, turning over and over in her mind where Mitch would have gone when he was released. Chas had checked with his family and friends and no-one had seen him, not since the day of the barbeque.   
Chas handed Jamie a mug of coffee and joined her on the steps by the front office.   
“I don't know what to say. It's like he's vanished into thin air.”  
Jamie turned to look at him. “He wouldn't do that. He would never leave me.” Her conviction was so profound Chas didn't bother to try arguing with her.   
“Okay. In that case, when was the last time any one saw him?”  
“When we were separated at the police station. Initially they put us in cells side by side, then they took Mitch away, down a different corridor. I was put in the cell nearest the main office, while Mitch....I don't know where they put him.” she sipped the hot drink, her brow heavily furrowed. Suddenly it cleared. “Do you know anyone who has been in the cells, or worked at the headquarters?”  
Chas shrugged, then got to his feet. “Hang on, I'll ask around.”  
A few minutes later he was back with another man. “Jamie, this is Stewart. His wife used to clean inside the station house. She might know where they put him.”  
“I'll take you to see Rena. She knows that place better than anyone.” Steward led Jamie to his battered four door saloon car and they got in. Shortly they pulled up at Stewart home, his wife coming to the door to meet her husband.   
“Rena, honey? We need to pick your brains.”  
Rena ushered Jamie inside and they went into the kitchen.   
“How can I help?”  
“You know the police headquarters from top to bottom...”  
Rena snorted. “That's not difficult, it's only one storey, if you don't count the basement.”  
“What's in the basement?” Jamie asked, leaning forward.  
“Well. Several storage room, a couple of cells, a fitness room, oh and and a drunk tank for the   
rowdies.”  
“Do they usually post a guard on the drunk tank?” Jamie asked, her suspicions aroused.  
Rena flapped her hand dismissively. “Only if they've got nothing better to do. It can get pretty noisy and messy after a wild Friday night.”  
Jamie persisted. “Is there someone who would check on the place? A cleaner or someone?”  
Rena shook her head. “Not with all that rioting and shooting going on down town. No one wants to go into town while that's going on.”  
Jamie jumped up and started to pace. “What if the put him there, and what if every one forgot he was there? With the shooting of the police chief, and the mayor, and everything that's happened since, they might simply have not bothered to check. Oh, my God, Mitch!”  
She bolted out of the room, Stewart behind her. Jamie screamed at him “Give me the keys, I have to go back there!”  
“Oh no you don't. You're in no fit state to drive anywhere, and have you forgot? The curfew starts in fifteen minutes. I was going to stay at the plant tonight.”  
“Fuck the curfew, Mitch has been down in that cell for a week, with no one checking on him, no one taking him food!!” She choked on her own words, horror rising up to strangle her.   
“Now, you don't know that. Let's get down there and find out.” Steward leant out the side window. “Rena? Lock the place up. Don't answer the door unless it's me!”

x-x-x-x-x

Their arrival outside the central headquarters of the Watertown Police Department coincided with what looked like a mass evacuation of the entire force. Jamie was out of the car before it stopped. She grabbed one of the officers as he left the building.  
“What's happening? Why are you leaving?” she asked him.  
“There's a break out at the detention center!” he replied, jerking his sleeve out of her fingers. “You should be back home. It's almost curfew!”  
Jamie let him go, Stewart catching up to her just as she bolted through the swing doors. Inside there were staff shouting and milling about. No one paid any attention to a woman skidding down one of the corridors into the back. Stewart followed gamely, also unnoticed by the officers kitting up to go and quell the riot across town.   
“Jamie, wait up!”  
He caught up with her as she finally found a door leading down to the basement. She clattered down the stairs then started opening doors, discovering the gym, the storage room, and another corridor leaving to a couple of open cells with a door beyond that. She snagged the keys hanging up beside the door and unlocked it. Steward came up beside her, puffing a little.   
Jamie flung the door wide and stormed through. Inside was another cell within the room itself.  
“Mitch?” She tried the remaining keys on the locked cage door, succeeding on the second try. The room was dark and she fumbled for the light switch. Steward found it first and light blazed brightly, both of them blinded for a second.   
“NO!” Jamie's scream echoed around the room. She fell on her knees beside the body of a man laying on the floor. “Don't you dare be dead, Mitchell Morgan...” She sobbed, laying her head on his chest, listening. The faint heartbeat plus the shallow rise and fall of his chest helped somewhat to stem the flood of tears that blinded her.   
“He's alive...barely, but alive.”  
Stewart hurried off to get help, while Jamie stayed, cradling her insensible lover in her arms, whispering to him to hang on and not leave her, repeating over and over that she loved him and he wasn't allowed to give up.  
Stewart arrived back with a couple of older officers in tow. Both policeman were shocked to see the state of the man in the cell.  
“We didn't know there was anyone down here. We've been so busy with everything that's been happening....dear Lord, poor man.”  
Jamie rounded on them. “Find a sheet, or blanket to carry him in. We need to get him somewhere I can treat him. Hurry!”  
Jamie shut her eyes and did a quick mental inventory of their supplies back at the truck. Until she could check him over thoroughly, she wasn't leaving his side for anything or anyone else.   
Stewart returned with the two police officers and they carefully lifted Mitch onto the sheet before lifting him gently and carrying him out of the cell and up to the main level. Jamie directed them to carry him to the car, despite them saying he needed to go to the hospital. Hearing the distant wail of sirens, Jamie lied and told them she'd take him straight there and not to bother the ambulance service who were probably all run off their feet anyway.  
Stewart helped her get Mitch into the back seat of the car, Jamie cradling him again to keep him from rolling about or banging against the car doors.   
“Take us to the distillery, please Stewart. I know how to help him. The hospital will be too busy, please?”  
Stewart gave her a long look, then nodded, jamming the car into gear and shooting off down the road with his precious cargo.

 

Jamie gently stroked the long hair off his forehead, crooning under her breath as she did so. She looked up to check the level of the bag suspended from a hook, glad to see the intravenous drip working steadily.  
It was the third day since Mitch had been rescued from the cell block, the regular infusions of glucose and electrolytes aiding his body to stabilize before the introduction of solids. When he did surface, small sips of natural fruit juice helped moisten his mouth and coax his insides to work again. One of his more lucid moments allowed him to recognize that he was out of the cell and back in the truck, supported on his favorite mattress, Jamie as his side. He didn't notice his naked state, the cannula conveying oxygen into his nose, the catheter emptying his bladder or the needles in both arms dripping necessary salts and glucose into his blood. He was also blissfully unaware of the mild sedative keeping him sleepy and manageable, as well as giving him harmless hallucinations.   
Fortunately for him, Jamie had packed almost everything out the plane's medical supply cupboard into the trailer, so she had everything she needed, and the necessary training to care for him, down to the most basic of human needs. Because he'd had access to water, up until that last day when he'd been too weak to get to the sink, he was in better shape than expected. He had lost most of his fat reserves, and his bones were more prominent than before, but his body had only started the process of consuming itself, so it was hoped his major organs were not compromised. Jamie kept a regular check on his blood and urine, using simple testing strips for his electrolyte levels, especially for any sign of loss of vital minerals like potassium. 

Before too long, his lucid moments became more frequent. 

He loved it when she stroked his hair. The brush of her nails across his scalp left tingles behind them, the sound of her crooning to him as musical as the spheres.  
He opened his eyes and blinked up at her.   
“Hey, sleepy head.” His angel murmured to him, her face surrounded by a corona of light. “Still having those loopy hallucinations?” she asked. His lips curled up at the corners automatically, his lashes dropping down again, shutting out the light and her face at the same time.   
“An angel..” he whispered.  
Jamie smiled down at him, her fingers not stopping their hypnotic stroking. “Open your eyes, Mitch.”  
He struggled but managed to prise them open again. “Hi, Angel.”  
“Hey you. Keep those big, beautiful brown eyes open for me, just a little bit longer.”  
“Did I go to heaven, after all?” he asked, his body so disconnected from his brain he thought he was floating. “I thought for sure I'd end up in hell for what I'd done.”  
“No. You're still on Earth, with me. I wouldn't let you go.”  
“Perfect,” Mitch replied. “But if you go, I won't want to stay here anyway.”  
Jamie smiled again. “No one is going anywhere. We're here together, Mitch Morgan.”  
“I'm glad we're together. I don't remember...”  
“Probably not, but you will again, when you're better.”  
“Okay. Angel?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Don't ever leave me?”  
Jamie leant down and kissed his forehead just above the black brows, such a strong feature, defining his face. “I won't leave you...til death us do part.”  
Mitch sighed deeply. “That's my girl.”

x-x-x-x-x


	10. Hale and Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before. (shouts) ROAD TRIP!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Like every other Zoo fan, I was bitterly disappointed that the series has not been renewed. There is always the faint hope that another network could pick it up, but only faint. All I can say to all that is - Thank heaven for fanfiction writers.   
> On another note, this particular chapter took a little longer to complete due to said dismay in not having any more Jamie/Mitch interaction to look forward to, (kinda killed the muse for a little bit) but never mind, just makes me work harder to create a life for them after the last episode. Now on with the story.........  
> ...and a reminder, any errors - grammatically, linguistically, geographically or technically (that's a lot of 'allys in there!) are all mine.

Jamie was never so happy to see the sign marking a county border disappear into the distance behind them. She gunned the motor a little, inching their speed up a notch. Beside her, Mitch raised an eyebrow.  
“In a hurry to be somewhere?”  
Jamie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled.   
“Nope. Just glad to be back on the road again.”  
“Can't argue with that.” Mitch replied, looking out the passenger window once more. Jamie gave him a quick once over, noting the sharper line to his clean shaven jaw, the tendons in his neck more prominent. 

Chas, his staff, family and friends all came to see them off. Even the zoo staff had come out from behind their barricade to send them on their way.   
All hell was breaking loose within the city center, the police headquarters fire bombed, and all the city administration fled. Chas and his people would continue to produce clean water for as long as possible, if only to supply their own needs, but they were also creating a small community within their neighborhood, where sanity was still holding a tenuous grip, creating safe zones for refugees from the city itself.

Mitch and Jamie could only wish them luck. Two weeks had passed since they'd been arrested and held in jail, every one of the days after Mitch was found, needed to just get him back on his feet. Now it was time to go. 

The morning had dawned clear and cold, a perfect spring day. Not wanting to go anywhere near Watertown central, they were heading nor-westerly, past the glacial lakes, their destination for the morning being Jamestown in North Dakota, two hundred miles away. After seeing the destruction of Watertown, they were both starting to feel as if they were plague carriers, poisoning everywhere they went. 

Chas had a different view when Mitch muttered his opinion out loud.   
“If you hadn't come to us, hadn't told us what was happening, we'd still be in blissful ignorance until they buried us. You may not have been able to save everyone, Mitch, but you will have saved some, myself, family and friends included.”

Now those very same people were left to fend as best they could. At least, they consoled themselves, they had access to uncontaminated drinking water.

As the truck carried them towards another border, another state, they started to see evidence that the hybrids, both in the water and on land, had overtaken them in the race north. Vehicles fleeing down both sides of the highway were now the norm, not the exception. The vehicles themselves were also changing, some converted delivery trucks sported strange assortments of extra lights, plating to protect wheels and sides, goods strapped on the top or towed. Even tractors and farm equipment were roped in to provide transport, some people obviously moving house lots to goodness knew where, to escape either the threat of violence, the growing sickness or the rumors about the hybrid invasion. Mitch likened it, in an unflattering way, to roaches scattering when the lights go on. There was no organization or plan, the people were were simply running away.   
The plus side was that now their armored vehicle passed unremarked and unnoticed among the refugees, what police control was left wasn't evident beyond the city or town centers, certainly the local PD were not concerned with traffic safety or accidents along the main roads they were now traveling. 

With the chaotic evacuations came more frequent hazards along the highways. Broken down cars, trucks and anything with wheels, were left abandoned on the shoulder or along the berms. That resulted in having to avoid those travelers, stranded by unreliable vehicles, now wanting to commandeer another mode of transport, regardless of who it belonged to. Makeshift barricades were becoming more common. The truck, with its massive front bull-bars, coped easily with the more flimsy efforts, but where actual vehicles formed the barrier they chose to avoid them, rather than engage, going off road whenever possible to bypass the obstacles. 

They hardened themselves to ignore the piteous groups of stranded people, children and elderly included, who shouted to them to stop and help. If they had, they would have just as likely fallen into an ambush. The ping of shots hitting the armor plating or bullet-proof glass became more regular, rolling the window down now no longer an option. 

Many of the vehicles left behind to be looted or burnt, were abandoned because they simply ran out of fuel. One of the many changes made when Jamie organized the repacking of the truck and trailer was securing the fuel drums inside the truck itself. A number of the square Jerry cans now formed the base of their bed. Fuel and clean water were their most precious possessions, in this violent new world and they protected them accordingly.  
If the worst came to the worst they could dump the trailer, and still get away with sufficient of both to last them several weeks, with rationing. Obtaining food, on the other hand, became a scavenger hunt. If they came across a deserted hamlet or small village they took advantage of whatever was left, scouring the shelves for tinned or packaged goods, siphoning abandoned cars when safe to do so. Only when they could not pack any more of anything into their vehicle, did they simply drive, not stopping for any one or anything, their one and only goal now to meet up with their friends.

They eventually rumbled through the outskirts of Jamestown, North Dakota, with only minor scrapes on the metalwork, and no loss of goods or injuries or breakdowns. They weren't going anywhere near the city center, only skirting to the east, on their way northward. By sunset they expected to be on top of the Canadian border. 

X-x-x-x-x

“Stop watching me.”  
“I like watching you.”  
“I'm eating, see?” He held out the half eaten carrot.  
“I know. Still like to watch you.”   
Mitch chuffed. “You should be taking a nap. First watch, remember? You decided we needed to keep a night watch going.”  
Jamie swept her arm in a semi circle. “With what's happening out there? Damn right we need to keep alert. It's not the hybrids we have to worry about now, it's the desperate people who would quite happily kill us both, to get their hands on what we're carrying, let alone what we're riding in.”  
Mitch let out a breath that bordered on a sigh. “Not arguing with you, just saying you need to get your rest.” He glanced sideways at her. “I was in bed for a week, I think I've caught up, and gone into credit.”  
Jamie frowned at him. “You have only just recovered from near starvation, not been in bed for the pleasure of it. And if I had my way...”  
Mitch raised a finger to cut her off. “It was long enough. I'm fine now, just fine.” He indicated the cab. “I'm not exactly exerting myself driving the truck, am I?”  
Jamie pouted. “Driving is exhausting on the brain. And the nerves.”  
Mitch nodded. “It has become something of a challenge, I'll admit, but we seem to be leaving most of that behind the closer we get to the Canadian border.”  
“True, but I'm not sure why that is.”  
“Probably because....um.....I have no idea why.”  
Jamie snorted. “The brain is stumped? I'm shocked.”  
Mitch shot her a glare and she subsided into giggles.  
Mitch glanced at her again. “I do have another theory. Nothing to do with north bound traffic, but something else.”  
“Well, share it with the class!”  
He rolled his eyes at that sallie. “If you behave. While I was stuck in bed...”  
Jamie interrupted. “For a good reason!”  
“Yeah, yeah. While I was there I had a chance to ponder on some things.” He paused for a moment.  
“And?” Jamie prompted.  
“And my theory is about why Abe said they were going to Vancouver, which, as you know is on the west coast, deep in hybrid territory behind the barrier.”  
“I was a bit mystified as to why they would go there, and not further east. Why risk being over run with hybrids? They have Samuel, for God's sake, why put him at risk?”  
“Are you going to let me get on?”  
“Fine. What did you come up with?”  
“Actually, just to digress a moment, those test results done on that hybrid you shot...”  
“Yeah?”  
“Didn't tell us a great deal more than we already knew.” Mitch ducked when Jamie threw a sock at him.   
“Mitch, you are impossible!”  
“I know. I work hard at it.” He grinned. “Anyway, as I was musing over these results that hardly added much to our already extensive knowledge, I started to think about our destination, and why Jackson, Abe and the others would go there.” He paused again. Jamie glared at him and he relented.  
“Have you, in your many travels around the world, flown into or out of Vancouver?” He waited for Jamie to shake her head.   
“Well, the airport itself is huge. Plus, it's on an island with only bridge or water access. There are only five bridges to the island, one of them like a drawbridge, able to be raised and lowered for ships and the like.”  
Jamie nodded. “How do you know all this? No. Never mind, you can tell me later. With you so far, nice big island and easily defensible.”  
“Satellite news, google maps and personal experience. So, to continue, knock out four of the bridges, nobody and nothing can get on, except over the drawbridge.”  
“Including hybrids?”  
“I'm assuming so. The species we've seen to date have all been land based creatures, even the ones mutated a hundred years ago, none were aquatic. Therefore, with an airport able to be isolated like that, it would have been relatively easy to evacuate the half a million people living in and around the city...”  
“Assuming they wanted to leave, mind you, they probably would when the west coast was compromised and they built the barrier.”  
“Right.”  
Jamie gave him a quizzical look. “So how does that help us, or the others?”  
“Add to the fact that the city has an airport relatively easy to defend from even the airborne hybrid, it would make sense to use it as a base for all sorts of area's of study, once the civilian population is taken out of the equation.”  
Jamie nodded. “So, you have an empty city, no civilians to worry about, safe transportation there and back, to anywhere in the world via aircraft, huge secure area to play in, guaranteed corridor for resupply or excursions into the hybrid zone as needed, but who's going to want to stay there?”  
Mitch made a gesture with his hand. “What better place to base studies on both the hybrids and the whole issue of human sterility?” Mitch was warming to his theory. “We all know that at some stage the sheer number of hybrids would over run the barrier, sooner or later. Garrison was prepared for this, the armed forces had their fingers on the button, ready to blow the beacons off the face of the Earth along with, what they called, acceptable losses. Once it was known that different hybrids were starting to appear, the chance of them escaping the restriction for movement we put on them was, if not a foregone conclusion, as least highly probable. Look at the flying hybrids, nothing could stop them from escaping, their only downfall a slavish devotion to the beacons.”  
“So?”  
“So-o-o,” He drawled. “Once they were out, they'd keep heading east until they hit the Atlantic. There was never a beacon in Vancouver, nothing to draw them there, so any hybrid population would be small. Once the people were gone, and with them a food source or just prey to play with, they would have to go elsewhere. When the beacon was activated outside Boulder, they would have been drawn south, just as all the others were.”  
Jamie sat up, one foot resting on the dashboard. “Alright. If I follow what you're saying, then Vancouver has an island airport with only one access point to the mainland, supposing the others were destroyed. With planes able to fly in and out unimpeded, they could easily evacuate the civilian population, probably relocating them before the barrier was completed. With that done, those remaining have a perfect site from which to study hybrids, and also concentrate on finding a cure for sterility?”  
“Got it in one.” said Mitch.   
Jamie shrugged. “Still missing a connection somewhere. Why go to all that trouble? When facilities and personnel are already available on the other side of the states or elsewhere in the world?”  
Mitch wagged a finger at her. “Would you agree that sterility is the number one problem that needs solving, world wide?”  
Jamie nodded. “Well, yes.”  
“So, like every other time the united states government have wanted a really huge issue resolved, they gather together specialists in their field and place them somewhere they can solely concentrate on the problem at hand – think, Area Fifty One and the atomic bomb, cold war spycraft, U.F.O's!”  
Jamie rolled her eyes, then frowned. “But surely, isolating them on an island....oh, wait...you're thinking of what the Shepherds did on Pangaea!”  
“Exactly. They'd want to keep the research out of the way of the general population, otherwise everyone, every news agency around the world would be clamoring for information, never giving them any peace. Also given the whole issue of human sterility, they are going to have to conduct human trials...quite probably illegal or morally ambivalent human trials. They may have even gone so far as to attempt to round up the few human females left who can successfully carry a baby to term.”  
“Like Clementine!”  
“Like our Clem. So, we have the greatest minds brought together in a facility where they can work uninterrupted, with no shortage of resources, effectively isolated by the barrier and the surrounding hybrids, few as they are. They are safe from the beacons, and no hybrid nests were detected. Garrison, as head of the IADG would have known about it, I imagine anyone in what's left of the military hierarchy are aware of it, the government certainly would be. If a cure is found there, this country could see the rebirth of the human race. It could also see the rest of the world held to ransom.” Mitch rounded off his summation with a smug smile. Jamie responded with an impressive eye-roll.   
“God, you are paranoid sometimes. How do you know the greatest minds are there?”  
“Remember that satellite news? I did a little digging when I had a signal. Back when you were hunting and disposing of the Shepherds, several other people were going missing.”  
“I didn't kill them, Mitch.”  
“I know. But you put them out of action.”  
“I did that. Who else was missing?”  
“On that USB Abe left us, were several copies of articles and newspaper items detailing several individual specialists that were no longer available, not even traceable. They were roughly dated between the time of the sterility gas being dropped and a couple of years ago.”  
“And you think these specialist, I'm assuming they all had something to do with human reproduction, were kidnapped or persuaded to volunteer, and brought to Vancouver?”  
“Yup. I don't know why Abe didn't clarify how they knew to go to Vancouver, knowing how deep it is in hybrid territory, but there has to be a reason. Maybe he thought the memory stick would fall back into Abigail's hands and didn't want to give away what's being done out there, who knows? All I do know is that it's the Nazi's all over again. At least, that's my theory.”   
“But surely, if that's the case....are they the good guys, or the bad guys? And where does that leave us in regards to the hybrid issue?”  
Mitch sent her a rueful smile. “That's why it's only a theory. A good theory, but I have no way of finding out how right I am until we get there.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

 

By the end of the day they rolled into the tiny township that was Lignite, North Dakota, just fifteen minutes from the Canadian border at Portal. When they drove through the quiet hamlet it appeared deserted, only the lonely sound of a dog barking, audible above the sound of their tyres crunching over the rubble and cracked concrete that was the main road.   
Mitch pulled the truck over behind a towering silo next to the railway lines, the place, if possible, looking even more abandoned than the houses and streets they'd just come though. Weeds were growing between the sleepers under the train tracks, the paintwork on the building peeling and discolored The wind was making a piece of metal swing back and forth, squeaking persistently, adding to the air of desolation.   
“Welcome to sunny Lignite,” Mitch muttered under his breath. He listened to the engine tick away to itself, cooling down after the long haul north. He'd been keeping an eye on the engine temperature, expecting the machine to develop possible problems being worked all day, but the well built unimog defied expectations, the temperature never rising above the manufacturers standard operating limits.  
“Are we there?” Jamie leant forward through the hatchway allowing access through to the back.   
“Slept well?”   
“I did. You drive a smooth ride.” She kissed him on the cheek and pulled her head back in. “I'll get us something to eat, then get up top. Any preference?”  
Mitch released the seat belt webbing, relaxing down into the drivers seat, glad to be free of the tight straps. “I'm easy.”

He stared out of the windscreen, the setting sun painting vivid colors against the few clouds. The land around them was largely flat with a few, long low hills breaking up the horizon. It made for spectacular sunsets. He soaked in the final golden rays until the sun sank below the Earth's rim, leaving streamers of pink and orange as its legacy.   
Jamie appeared and pushed a bowl into one hand and a mug of something into his other.   
Mitch didn't much care what it was, it was hot, tasty and he relished every mouthful. Since his brush with starvation, his appreciation of simple food only increased, his sense of taste and smell heightened possibly by the knowledge that he'd skated very close to near-death, only Jamie's constant care pulling him back from the edge and back to life. He couldn't have done better himself.   
A side effect of his experience was his swearing off booze. He'd always considered he had a handle on alcohol, kidding himself he was in control of his drinking, that he could give it up any time. In truth, and as painful as it was for him to admit – he was an alcoholic. It was a wonder he functioned at all, after the months long bender he'd pulled, when Jamie went missing in Brunswick. Even after ten years in and out of the stasis tank, which, with its healing ability, was probably the only reason he didn't die of liver failure in the jail, his first indulgence was a drink. He told himself he missed the taste, missed the burn of it sliding down his throat, settling like a glowing coal in his stomach. But he couldn't fool himself any longer. Jamie had laid down the law when he finally regained his senses. Any alcohol they carried was now purely for medicinal purposes only. Despite the tired cliché she meant every word.   
To lessen the sting, she admitted that she was an alcoholic as well, but Mitch knew she'd have to work a lot harder to match him for drinking binges. Now, together, they prepared to live alcohol free, no longer tied to a bottle for as long as they both should live. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

Mitch stared out at the surrounding countryside, doing a slow sweep of one hundred and eighty degrees. The infrared goggles shaded everything a lurid green, but as bright as day. Nothing could move that he wouldn't notice, if he was looking in the right direction. To augment the goggles he also wore a pair of headphones over his woolly hat, one of Jamie's many toys, attached to an electronic listening device, like a mini handheld satellite dish. Together is made it impossible for anyone, or anything to sneak up without being seen or heard. Already he'd heard any number of rodents going about their business among the weeds and untended crops, and the occasional owl on the hunt.   
He heard only one vehicle during his long watch, the distant rumble of an engine easily discernible before any lights were visible. It cruised past their hideaway, never slowing down, nor speeding up, just keeping a steady speed. He kept tabs on it until it passed beyond the range of his device, on the alert in case it chose to turn around and come back, maybe to investigate across the railway tracks. It didn't. Before dawn his vigil ended, Jamie joining him and bringing a mug of coffee to share while they watched the sun appear.  
“Quiet night?”  
“Just one car passed by.” He made swooping motion with his hand. “Kept right on going and never turned back.”  
“Good. What's the plan to get over the border?”  
Mitch wrapped his hands around the coffee and took a sip. “We have two choices, both have their own risks.”  
“Official or unofficial?”  
“Yeah. I'm leaning towards the unofficial myself. In fact I'm thinking, having looked at those road maps we picked up, that we don't need to bother with the border at all and just head west until we hit the barrier.”  
“Why?”  
“Well, either way you look at it, from here we still have to travel roughly twelve hundred miles west, to reach our final destination, regardless of whether we stay in the US or go further north, via Calgary. With no hold ups, or stops, we could optimistically be there in twenty four hours, give or take.”  
Jamie stared off into the distance, taking a few moments to work out the route. “To take the US route, we'd cross through Montana, through the barrier at Butte, across Washington state to the coast, then a short hop north into Canada?”  
“You forgot Idaho, but that's beside the point. We know that Butte is another command center manned by the IADG. They will have heard what happened further south, so will probably be in touch with Garrison, or at least somebody who has the authority to let us pass.”  
“And the alternative?”  
“We hope for the best, but if we're stopped, we're a moving violation as far as the Canadian custom officers are concerned. The border is monitored twenty four seven, wherever we choose to cross, they'd know and come to investigate, posting news about our illegal incursion, notifying every cop north of the border. We could be locked up again. Personally, I think our best chance of reaching Jackson and the others is to go through Butte.”   
“You said there'd be risks with both. What the primary risk for the US option?”  
“The condition of the roads on the west side of the barrier. They won't have been maintained much in the last ten years, including any bridges. There may be any number of natural hazards like slips, washouts – you get the picture. We have to drive through some pretty wild country, over mountain passes, through several national forests and the going will be slower, less options to get off the main highway if we encounter trouble. The biggest risk is just being on our own.”  
Jamie started to collect their breakfast dishes. “I think we're done pretty well on our own. I've always liked Montana in the spring. I vote Butte.”  
Mitch followed her, gathering up the gun, goggles and listening device, lastly snagging the blanket he'd been wrapped in to stave off the cold. “Butte it is.”

x-x-x-x-x

The road stretched before them flat and straight. On both sides of the road spring growth greened the huge crop fields, some left fallow, most growing some plant or other. They were driving parallel to the US border until they reached their turn off, to head south, at Scobey. The landscape stretched as far as the eye could see, painted in a pallet of multiple shades, sometimes according to the crop, more often by the variations of the new growth of grass and weeds. Occasionally a windbreak of almost black pines would break the view, or a flash of still water, reflecting the sky. The towns, strung like beads, passed in a blur, the main highway often passing them by with only a sign to indicate they existed at all. 

They remained vigilant long after passing a still smoldering, burnt out diner as they rolled through Wolf Point, but when nothing occurred, they relaxed, admiring the railway bridge as they crossed the Missouri river for the first time and watched mile after mile of rolling grassland pass them by. 

As the hours passed they progressed deeper into Montana, heading further and further south, until finally turning westward, bypassing the town of Brockway. In the hour after, they picked up a tail.   
Abandoned vehicles had been few and far between, unlike the approaches to the border. Either the people had already left, or they owned more reliable transport. Jamie suggested the former. What few vehicles they passed going north didn't slow down or try to block their way, but when Mitch checked the rear view camera on the back of the trailer, another bit of Jamie special tech, he noticed a lone biker keeping a healthy distance back, never closing, just following.   
“I think we have a tail,” Mitch observed, Jamie checking the side mirror and trailer camera. She twisted to snag the high powered binoculars from behind the seat.  
“Why do you think it's a tail? Apart from the fact he's on the same road heading west like us.”  
“I speed up, I slow down, he keeps pace.”  
“Ah. Keep it steady, I'm going up top.”  
“What? Don't you want me to stop?” Mitch clenched his fingers on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling every bump and jolt of the truck despite the flat, featureless tarmac. Vision's of Jamie thrown off the roof made him start to sweat.  
Jamie had other ideas. “No, don't bother.” She undid the seat belt and rummaged for a few seconds under her seat, producing another harness. “I'll wear this and clip on to the roof runners. I won't fall off.”  
He kept one eye on the road and one on Jamie as she pushed open the hatch onto the roof of the cab and climbed out. As the truck and trailer were the same height, she had a clear view behind, plus she could shelter behind the air-diverter to prevent herself being buffeted. Mitch concentrated on keeping the truck from swaying or jolting, craning to see any cracks or potholes ahead. Soon, but not soon enough for Mitch's nerves, Jamie was climbing back into the cab.  
“So, what did you see?” he asked.  
Jamie spent a few moment wriggling out of the harness, and back into her seat belt, placing the binoculars on the dashboard for easy access.   
“Far as I could see, it's a lone biker, towing a small trailer and loaded up with gear. Didn't see any guns on the handle bars, but that could just be because he has a handgun.”  
Mitch glanced over at her. “I know we're not exactly dawdling here, but shouldn't a bike be able to over take us easy?”  
Jamie nodded. “Easy as, so we can only assume he's hanging back for a reason. Maybe he thinks we might try to take him out if he passes?”  
“Guess we'll find out when we have to skirt somewhere bigger than a hay bale”  
Jamie pulled down the map, tracing their route. “That would be Lewistown. What we're on now basically passes smack dab through the center of the town.”  
“Not a good idea.”  
“Nope. But there's an easy bypass that meets up again on the west side. If our tail is truly a tail, we'll find out then.”

After hour upon hour of open grassland, the landscape changed on the approach to Mosby, trees once more added variety to the view, breaking up the ridge lines and clothing the rolling hills. Just outside the 'blink-and-you'd-miss-it' one building town, Mitch pointed out a bridge.  
“Do we need another solar panel?”   
Beside the bridge, crossing the poetically named Mussel Shell river, was a tiny shack sporting some modern technology – one three foot square of solar panel and an UHF aerial. “Probably used to monitor river levels, or currents or something.”  
Jamie rolled down the window as Mitch slowed the truck. On closer inspection she rolled the window back up. “Someone's shot the thing to hell.”  
As he got them moving again he checked the mirrors and camera. “Cheeky shit! Our tail isn't being so coy anymore.”  
Jamie looked at the image and saw that the biker was now riding only a hundred meters or more behind them. Far enough back to avoid any buffeting from their wake.   
“Want me to warn them off?”   
Mitch took a moment to answer, getting the truck up to speed and watching the biker at the same time. “Nah. Just a waste of ammunition We'll lose them at Lewistown.”  
Shortly after that the trees started to thin out and they were back to grass and scrub for company. 

It was as if the three vehicles were the only living things in the whole world. The last vehicle had passed them hours ago, the land so empty they barely saw another living thing. No cattle, horses, not even birds, the skies devoid of life as much as the Earth below.  
Briefly, more tree's started to appear again, but this time instead of wildling pines, they were large oaks and other deciduous species. As they passed the turnoff for Winnett they saw a high mesa with a dramatic drop off in the distance. It was the first sizable geological feature they'd seen since entering the state.

At the outskirts of Lewistown they slowed to negotiate the remains of a barricade. It had long been abandoned, apparently something large having crashed through in the past. Further in they passed a weed infested park.  
“That's not something you see every day!” Mitch remarked as they passed the center piece of the park – a cold war Minuteman missile.  
“The area is probably surrounded with old missile silos.”  
Mitch glanced over at her. “Now that would make a cool hideaway, don'tcha think?”  
Jamie gave him a look. “You want to live in a dirty great hole in the ground, be my guest!”  
“He's closer.” Mitch remarked, glancing at the rear mounted camera feed. “Not likely to be able to shake him now.” He slowed the truck to negotiate a burnt out tanker blocking half the road when the first shot rang out, pinging off his side window.   
“Shit!” Gunning the motor they peeled off to the right, only to have another shot hit Jamie's door.  
“We're in a cross fire!”  
The motorcyclist, that had been tailing them and keeping close behind, suddenly roared past, one arm held straight out, pistol in hand, shooting at their attackers on the left, in front of the truck, before his speed carried him beyond the range of the shooters, the small trailer bouncing along behind.  
Car's had been placed to prevent an ordinary vehicle from escaping, if the guns didn't stop them. The truck wasn't ordinary, shoving the cars out of the way and clearing a path to escape. As they rounded a bend at speed, they saw the rider waiting for them, signaling for them to follow him.   
“Do we?” Mitch asked heatedly.  
“I don't know....YES!” Jamie shouted at the last moment, Mitch turning the wheel sharply to make the right hand turn.   
What followed was a zig-zag path through the back roads of Lewistown until they emerged beyond the western city limits, the green sign giving towns and distance at the side of the road, riddled with bullet holes. 

The biker slowed down and pulled over, stopping on the hard shoulder, the truck and trailer pulling in behind him. Jamie and Mitch stayed in the cab, watching the biker dismount then reach up to take off their helmet.   
“It's a woman!” Mitch exclaimed.  
“A woman with a gun.” Jamie reminded him.   
As if hearing them, the woman laid her helmet on her saddle then reached into her jacket for her gun, laying that down on the ground. Then she stood there, watchful, her hands held up, level with her shoulders.   
“If anything happens, drive off.” Jamie told him, strapping a gun holster round her waist. “That means if she shoots me, you drive away, Mitch.”  
“Then don't get shot.” He retorted.  
Jamie climbed down from the cab and shut the door, not moving until Mitch locked it.

The woman watched Jamie approach, not moving or speaking until the two women were six feet apart.   
“You know your small towns.” Jamie said. The woman shrugged.  
“Didn't think you wanted to plow through the center of Lewis, so took the scenic route.”  
“Is there a reason you haven't overtaken us before now?”  
The woman tilted her head to the side. “You're driving a wicked piece of metal. I figured you were either army or something official. If you weren't, you'd have tried to shake me off or shoot me before now.”  
Jamie tilted her chin up. “What do you want?”  
“Company. Protection. There's some freaky stuff out there.”  
Jamie gave her a tight smile. “You have no idea. What's your destination?”  
“Ultimately? Seattle. Short term, Butte.”  
Jamie couldn't help reacting in surprise. “Butte? Why there?”  
The woman gave a toothy grin. “Now that would be telling. Where are you guys heading?”  
Jamie glanced back to see Mitch had the drivers door open, rifle propped on the open window and aimed at the woman. She frowned at him, then shook her head, turning back to face the woman with a small smile.  
“Strangely, the same as you.”  
“Small world. I'm Ally.”  
Inwardly, Jamie winced at the reminder Mitch's former girlfriend-stepmom-whatever. “I'm Jamie, and that's Mitch. Have you been drinking bottle water?”  
Ally slowly lowered her hands. “What sort of fucked up question is that?”  
“A simple yes or no will do.”  
“Then...yes.”  
“Good. Don't drink from the rivers, reservoirs, lakes or taps. Have you been bitten by any strange looking animals?”  
Again Ally looked quizzical. “No.”  
“Good. How is your fuel status?”  
“It's good.” She pointed to her small trailer. “I find the bike quite economical. What's your fuel economy like?”  
Jamie laughed. “Not exactly five star, but we manage. We're planning of keeping going until we reach Butte.”  
“That's my plan. We have another three hours or so to reach Butte, but our next large town is Townsend, about two hours away. A few blink stops in between, but the closer we get to Butte, the fewer people left to worry about.”  
“Good to know. We're going to top up before we get moving again. Hey, you didn't get hit in the crossfire? ”  
Ally smiled broadly. “No. Just glad you were there to take the heat, that would have been a close call for me on my own.”  
“You're welcome. If you need anything, come ask.” Jamie extended her hand and Ally took it, the two women shaking before parting ways. Jamie walked back to the cab and climbed in.  
“What did you think you were doing?” She asked. Mitch was stowing the rifle above his head.  
“Covering you. Thought that was obvious.”  
“And if she'd shot me?”  
“I'd have shot her, then myself.” Mitch looked over at her, noting her cynical look. “If you're dead, there's nothing for me. I love my daughter, but Clem has her son now, she also has Jackson and the others. She'd get over it, if I wasn't around, she did before.” He paused, his face twisting. “I went through hell, when I thought you'd died in that plane crash. I nearly drank myself into an early grave. Just 'cos I've sworn off the juice now, I know I'd just go right back on it, the second you stopped breathing.” He gulped a breath. “So yeah...you dead, she dead, me dead.” His face creased into a grin for a moment. “Hey, that rhymes.”  
Jamie shook her head, deeply moved. “Impossible, stubborn man. Come here...”  
Her lips felt cool under his, her fingers busy against his scalp. It was awkward leaning across the center console, but he didn't care. After several long minutes they pulled apart and just looked at each other, foreheads touching, then Jamie licked her lips and sat back in her seat.   
“We need to refuel. I'll get the can, you get the hose.”  
Mitch laughed, his somber mood lifted. “You 'ol romantic.”

x-x-x-x-x

They didn't linger at the roadside, getting under way as soon as both vehicles were refueled and checked over. The truck had several new bullet dents in its metalwork, but was otherwise intact. Ally, after introducing herself to Mitch, opted to go ahead, keen to give her powerful ride its head for some of the way. She'd wait for them to catch up.   
Jamie was now in the drivers seat, giving Mitch the leisure to watch their new friend tuck her military short, bleach blond head back into her helmet before throwing her leg over the saddle and firing up the motor. Jamie noticed him watching. “So what do you think of her? You know she's also heading for the west coast? Seattle, I believe she mentioned.”  
Mitch glanced over at Jamie, his eyes narrowed. “I think precisely nothing, at this stage. Maybe she's going to find family.” He shrugged. “She did us a favor, we're doing her a favor As long as there's no shooting, I'm good with it.”

They were once more riding through sweeping countryside, no trees, no animals, few buildings, fewer people and a whole lot of nothing. A Judith's Gap they found themselves surrounded by a wind farm, the towering pylons and gigantic blades gleaming white, some of them still turning, others obviously lacking maintenance. It covered a huge area and stretched for miles along both sides and right up to the edge of the highway.

Ally was waiting for them a mile before the settlement of Harlowtown. Jamie pulled the truck up beside the biker and rolled down the window.  
“Problem?”  
Ally flipped up her visor and grinned, squinting into the sun. “Not really, but there's no real bypass to avoid the center of town, such as it is. Wanna risk it?”  
Jamie looked over at Mitch, who shrugged and waved a hand in the air, dismissively.   
“Do we really have a choice?” He queried. Jamie grimaced and turned back to the window.   
“We'll risk it. We'll take the lead and stick to the main road if you want to use us as a shield?”  
“Will do.” Securing her visor back down, she waited for Jamie to get the truck moving again before slipping in to place behind the trailer. She rode so that she could easily see past the trailer to what was coming up, she could also see Mitch watching her in the big side mirror. She waved.   
“The stray is waving at me,” Mitch reported, one dark eyebrow raised in confusion.  
Jamie laughed, amused by his terminology and expression.

They didn't speed through the streets of Harlowtown, but they didn't hang about either. Like every other town they'd passed through, it was small, served the surrounding area's needs and was empty of life. Mitch was glad to get out of it. He almost welcomed the expansive views, the empty sameness of the land, certainly better than looking at lifeless shops and houses, their owners and occupiers unlikely to return. In a few years all those country towns would gradually fall into decay, the houses fall down, the roads start to crack and grow weeds, trees in some cases. The land would eventually bury and grow over any evidence that mankind had tried to live there. It would return to what it had always been, like the steppes of Russia, a vast grassland under a really big sky. He wondered what the Native Americans thought of it all. During their trip across Montana, they had passed through reservation lands belonging to several different Indian nations. Had anyone bothered to inform then of what was going on? Did they already know? Would they simply return to their life before the invasion of the white settlers? He laughed silently. Wouldn't that be the ultimate irony, that the wide open plains devolved back to the plains people who always used to live there. Always supposing they survived the hybrids and spores. He hoped they did. 

Ally overtook them again once they were past Harlowtown, accelerating off into the distance until no more than a speck. Jamie put in a CD and was half singing along to it, while Mitch stared out the passenger window, watching the clouds move over the emerging hills. At Bruno they were driving through a landscape of ridges and cuttings, brown streams and low hills, very different from the flattish plains. The horizon was that much closer, with overlapping ranges clothed in dark conifers, many of the water courses dry while others were not much more than a trickle, lined with willows and cottonwoods wearing their spring green.   
Past Loweth they were accompanied by the stately march of towering electricity pylons carrying massive cables, two by two across the sage and scrub hillsides. Like colossus, the metal structures dwarfed everything around them, striding ever onward until the hills swallowed them whole.   
When they reached Skidway, the hills came down to meet the road, along with their cloak of pines. After the long hours of wide expanse it was almost claustrophobic to travel between such close company. Heavily wooded slopes butted up against the guard rail, enormous pines half a century old loomed out of the forest, drawing the eye. The sky had narrowed to a strip of blue, bordered by a darkly frayed edging of pointed trees tops.   
A mile or two further on and the crowding trees thinned out, the hills pulling back away from the road and Mitch felt like he could breath again.   
By the time they were approaching the outskirts of Townsend, they were back to wide open spaces and gently undulating mounds.   
They're tiny cavalcade was now on the home run to Butte, a mere hour away. They avoided the choke point t-junction in the middle of Townsend, following Ally through the back roads to join the main road further south, where once again, she took off into the distance.   
Train tracks now mirrored their course, and for a short while the Missouri river did as well.  
Bypassing Toston and leaving the railway behind, they crossed over the Missouri, quickly leaving the river behind them as they headed south westerly. Now they were back in farming county, the long metal frames on wheels used for irrigation standing idle and dry in paddock after paddock, patiently awaiting the command to roll again before they rusted away.   
Halfway to Butte, and they were climbing, suddenly surrounded by hill tops and plunging gullies. The road cuttings were grey shale, the color of the road itself, the surrounding land as harsh as the moon. It was a complete contrast to the lowlands, the hard ridges and folding peaks giving no cover to man or beast. The nearest mountain ranges were blurred by distance, giving them a blue caste, those further away almost transparent, all detail lost.   
The interstate neatly avoided Cardwell, avoiding any need to diverge from their course. They saw their first sign for Butte on the outskirts, heading west. Jamie raised her hand and Mitch gave her a high five. They had completed half of their journey to rejoin the Team.

They blasted past Whitehall, now only a half hour from Butte and within spitting distance of the foothills of the Rockies. Up ahead they had to pass through the Homestake pass to reach the city itself, Ally dropping back to follow behind. As they climbed the pass, they had to make their way around several rock falls, plus the center strip between the west and east interstate was reflecting evidence of long neglect with uncut grass and rank with weeds.   
Once they reached the summit of the pass, they started on the downhill run, the views opening up, gilded by the sun getting low in the sky.   
“Glad we weren't trying to do this in the winter!” said Mitch, pointing to the red poles set along the side of the road. “It would appear they get a tiny bit of snow up here.”  
Jamie laughed grimly, all her concentration on the winding road. “I'm just glad we're on this side of the road, not looking at the drop off over in the east bound lane.” She swerved to avoid a house sized boulder sitting in the middle of the road. Mitch looked up at the hillside above, many other boulders of a similar or bigger size sitting poised to roll down with little or no encouragement.   
“I vote we don't take this route again, especially if it's snowing.” 

Butte lay before them, nestled in a valley, a natural bowl sitting high in the Rockies, straddling the continental divide. Once a mining town, now a city, all but abandoned because of the concrete edifice that was the barrier snaking away, north and south. Some of the thirty two thousand inhabitants had chosen to remain, too stubborn to leave, unwilling to be convinced it was in their own best interest to evacuate. They, along with a selection of essential services to provide the Barrier Control center support and supplies, remained near to the barrier, never suspecting that it could ever be breached.

They pulled over into a lay-by to discuss their next move. It would soon be dark, too dark to try and find their way around an unknown city with unseen hazards, not least convincing the people manning the barrier control center, to let them pass through.   
Ally was pulling off her leather gloves, tucking them inside the helmet already under her arm. She walked up to the side of the truck and Jamie wound down her window.   
“We made it then.” Ally remarked, fine lines framing her green eyes and bracketing her mouth.  
Jamie smiled tiredly. “Now we just need to find a safe place to spend the night.”   
“I might just know of somewhere. It's not fancy, but it will have a flush toilet and hot water.” Ally informed them.  
“Sounds like heaven,” Jamie retorted. “Are there people at this place?”  
Ally shook her head. “Not any more. It's not far from here. I'll show you.”  
“Still trusting her blindly?” Mitch drawled, shifting in his seat. “Damn, my backside is numb.”  
“Does this look like I trust her?” Jamie held up her pistol she'd had concealed below the window. “Neither of us know why the other is here, and until we do I'm not taking any unnecessary chances.”  
Mitch gave her a winsome grin. “So we follow on trust, but keep a gun handy. Makes sense.”  
“Is there any other way?”

x-x-x-x


	11. Barriers and Bureaucracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before, epic road trip fun and games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some stage, I will be swapping out chapters due to numerous tiny punctuation and grammatical errors found (much to my fury) in reading previous entries. My apologies. Hopefully what is posted hence will be less glitchy.  
> (I am in a constant battle with commas and hyphens)

Ally took them on a roundabout trip through the outer edges of Butte. They initially swung past the monstrous Berkley Pit, a toxic flooded hole in the ground, a mile across. In the fading light the sloping ramparts, that hid the view from any passing traffic, gleamed pink and grey as if to distract from the monstrosity lurking beyond. The route they were on climbed steadily, Ally leading them off the main highway to follow the narrow back roads skirting the mines.  
The houses around them were dark, even the street lights no longer working, and still, the road climbed, first zigging then zagging, winding around the houses, in places almost too narrow for their Unimog. As they got higher they were able to look back over the valley bottom, seeing areas where lights still glowed.  
They were now so high the last of the sun only touched the very tips of the surrounding mountains, making them feel as if they were one with them. Within minutes the sun's last ray was snuffed out and night drew its long shadows.  
Along a narrow, dusty summit lane, Ally finally turned off to negotiate a steep gravel driveway. Two houses, perched side-by-side on the slope of the hill, looked out over a spectacular view.  
There were no lights in either building or in any along that row, and none came on when they crunched to a halt. A screen of pitch black pines made an effective hedge, hiding the houses from those below, still Jamie didn't turn on their headlights, choosing to use the nine-volt torches to see their way about.  
Ally had already parked her motorbike and taken off her helmet, her body language relaxed, an indication she was obviously not expecting trouble. Despite the growing gloom, she easily found her way onto the porch, producing a key from somewhere to open the door and go inside.  
Mitch paused and listened, only the stiff breeze rustling the pines making any impression at their elevation. He followed Jamie as they entered the first building, Ally appearing with a storm lantern, the golden glow of the flame somehow apt in the old-fashioned house.  
“Make yourselves at home. We're quite safe here.” She indicated the windows. “No one will see any lights up here, the trees do a pretty good job of screening us from the valley below.”  
“That was a tortuous route you took us on,” Mitch observed. “And you knew about this house how, exactly?”  
Ally waved a negligent hand. “I know stuff, you know stuff. It's somewhere I've used before.”  
“That implies you've done this trip before,” Jamie stated. “We were wondering why you would want to go to Seattle? Given the area is west of the barrier, and the barrier is there because of the hybrids...” She let her voice tail off.  
Ally turned to face them, her false bonhomie dropped. “Look. My name is Alexandra Scofield. You won't know what I'm famous for, but it has to do with fetoscopic surgery. That's...”  
“Surgery on a baby still in the womb.” Mitch finished for her. He indicated himself. “Medical doctor before veterinary pathologist.” As a way to explain his knowledge of the subject.  
Ally looked taken aback but quickly recovered. “That's right. Look, I don't know you from Adam, but I feel...” She bit her lip. “I think I can let you know what this is all about.” She looked down at the floor for a moment, gathering her thoughts. When she looked up again she looked older, the weight of her decision giving her a somber aspect. “I expect you're thinking there's not a lot of call for my skills, and you'd be right, up to a point. Despite not having many patients requiring my branch of surgery in the last ten years, I have specialized in similar surgery, and research to better understand why women are unable to conceive.”  
Jamie snorted. “That's easy. The Shepherds sprayed a gas that did the job.”  
Ally smiled to herself. “True, but that doesn't explain why only humans were affected, and not other animals, including those closest to our genetic makeup.”  
“You're talking about the great apes?” said Mitch.  
“I am. We share ninety-nine point six percent of our DNA with two Chimpanzees species. Myself and other specialist have been studying the genomic variations to find out why human females are now unable to produce fertile eggs, whereas both Chimps and their closest relatives, the Bonobo's can and have produced offspring, suffering no effects from the gas.”  
Jamie and Mitch exchanged a glance, a whole conversation taking place in silence and in seconds.  
Jamie stepped forward and spoke. “Why don't we get comfortable. It's obvious that between us, we have quite a story to tell.”

 

Sometime over the next hour they settled into the old house, bringing in food and water to create a meal, dusting off the old furniture to accommodate them comfortably. Mildewy curtains were pulled over windows to stop light leaking out, as a precaution, the conversation ranging over a wide variety of topics, not least Jamie and Mitch's involvement in the whole hybrid/human sterility issues. When it was finally revealed to Doctor Scofield about Clementine and baby Sam, the woman almost started to dance around the room.  
“And you think that the cure you got her from Reiden Global, for the terminal disease she suffered in her childhood, which you think was also caused by Reiden, affected her ability to resist the gas and still get pregnant?”  
Mitch nodded. “Later combined with what Abe gave her in the stasis tank to advance the babies development and cure its blood disorder...”  
“Abe?”  
“Abraham Kenyatta. Also a Doctor, an endocrinologist to be specific, used to be a safari guide.” Mitch smirked at her understandably baffled expression.  
Jamie picked up the previous thread of their conversation. “When you also factor in Jackson's exposure to something his father injected him with as a child, what we called the Ghost gene, plus the father of the baby, Sam, being Jackson's son, has all combined to create the possible cure that you and everyone else is searching for.”  
Ally sat back in her armchair and brought a hand up to cover her eyes. “It seems unbelievable.”  
Jamie and Mitch gave a brief chuff of laughter. “We know.” They said together, at the same time.  
Ally dropped her hand and stared at them. “It must be some sort of cosmic joke that brought us together, then. I'm guessing that you're on your way to joining everyone in Vancouver?”  
Jamie and Mitch nodded. Ally pointed to Mitch.  
“But despite being a doctor, you are more involved with animals than humans?”  
“Says it all on the badge.” He pointed to an invisible nameplate on his chest. “Veterinary Pathologist,” he drawled, dragging out all the syllables.  
Ally rolled her eyes, then turned to Jamie. “And your specialty?”  
“I was a journalist in my old life, now I'm a Jack-of-all-trades. Primarily, I keep his brain alive.” Jamie pointed to Mitch's shaggy head.  
Ally laughed at his disgruntled expression. “You don't agree?”  
“Oh, I agree, she does keep me alive – in more ways than you can imagine.” He shifted and turned to face his lover. “Jamie is also a tilter at windmills, smarter than your average bear, a crack shot, collects high tech doohickeys and thingamabobs, and is the love of my life.”  
Ally watched, profoundly moved, as Jamie sent him a mega-watt smile before launching herself into his lap and pulling his face to hers, kissing him soundly.  
Minutes later they parted, both a little flushed and tousled, Mitch with glasses askew, Jamie decidedly pink-cheeked and licking her lips.  
Ally had got up while they were engrossed and stood staring sightlessly through a gap in the faded curtains, her arms folded over her chest. She turned back to face the room.  
“Then you and your team are exactly the right sort of people we need, in Vancouver.”  
Mitch screwed up his face. “Hang on. There is a wrong sort of people?”  
Ally ignored his query and went on to explain. “The reason I'm out here and not there, in Vancouver, is because I've been looking for someone, quite a few someone's in fact. But my search was useless, so here I am, on my way back.”  
“Why not just fly back? Is there something wrong with the airport?” Jamie asked.  
“Not the airport per se, more a lack of planes, fuel, pilots, you name it. If I could have flown, I can assure you I would have. Our world has become a very dangerous place. I just thank my lucky stars that I came across you!”  
“So. No flights out of Vancouver?” Mitch clarified. “That must have been a recent edict, our friends were heading there and they wouldn't have risked Clem or the baby going by road.”  
“Possibly not, but the baby alone would guarantee they would have been flown there by any means possible. Probably by helicopter.”  
“Don't suppose you can lay your hands on one of those?” Mitch asked.  
“A helicopter? Stand in line.” Ally scoffed. “No, the only ways in and out of there would be the same way we are traveling, or by sea.”  
Jamie spoke up. “I'm guessing that you have access through the barrier then?”  
Ally nodded, patting her leather vest. “All in here. I can get us through, but I have no idea what things are like on the other side. I flew out last time. Got a domestic to here, where I picked up the bike.”  
“How long ago?” Mitch asked. “Because things have just recently gone from bad to really, really bad.”  
“You're referring to the breach at Boulder. Yeah, heard about that. Being a member of the research team gives me access to information the news channels would love to get their hands on.” She saw Jamie and Mitch exchange a look. “There's more than just hybrids getting through the barrier, isn't there?” Ally queried.  
Mitch outlined how far reaching the spread of the hybrids were, their effect on the local animal populations, the release of spores into the water supplies across numerous states, all of it heading east and south like an unstoppable contagion.  
“We have a way to produce clean water, plus as far as I'm aware, it – the spores – hasn't crossed over into salt water, so desalination plants could also provide drinking water for a larger population.”  
Ally jumped in. “They're doing that, desalination, at the airport, so it's unlikely they're affected by the spores, even supposing it's reached that far.”  
Mitch leaned forward to make his point. “We are carrying samples of a rangers dog that was turned, the hybrid wolves that escaped the barrier, other animals that have come in contact with them and the waterborne spores that causes outbreaks of dysentery, most recently a catastrophic outbreak in Omaha and Watertown, although I haven't been up close enough, in either case, to make a proper diagnosis, to determine what the spores do to a human body. We do know that a human bitten by an infected animal or hybrid will develop anomalous mutations. They also suffer almost total regression of the neocortex, leaving the victim little of their former selves, suppressing pain to the point of ignoring terminal injuries. We've discovered that something in the hybrid chemistry reacts violently with the brain's limbic system, leaving the victim without conscience or remorse. It also stimulates the body to produce abnormal muscles mass in a very short period, giving unbelievable strength, over stimulates adrenaline production, while at the same time inciting episodes of uncontrollable rage. We've seen individuals kill large numbers of people, display animalistic behavior, even turn on the person they love most, without any hesitation.” Mitch paused and dragged a hand through his disordered hair.  
“For all of these incidents, we have samples, written reports detailing our findings and have witnessed first hand the outcomes. All this we're carrying with us. But I've gone as far as I can, I need help with finding out how it is all connected, how it can be cured, or at the very least treated. Ultimately we have to find a way to stop the mutations, just as we did ten years ago. And we're running out of time. Once America is overrun, the water contaminated and the animals turned, there won't be any infrastructure capable of delivering a cure when or if we find it.” Mitch could see that he had seriously shocked the good doctor, her face reflecting her horror at the picture he painted.  
Ally opened and shut her mouth a couple of times before speaking. “You're talking about an EOTW event.”  
“For the greater part of the north and south American continents....yes. Europe has been working on discovering and destroying any hybrid nest, and recently they have identified new potential hybrid hot spots around the world. But right here is where the potential for disaster is at its greatest.” Mitch told her. “Here is also where we can stop it dead, before it goes beyond our borders to the rest of the world.”  
Ally dry washed her face and sat down heavily in an armchair. “I had no idea it was this bad. They, the people in Vancouver have no idea...”  
“They will once Jackson and Abe bring them up to speed.” Jamie retorted. “Like us, they know all there is to know, while we have the hard data and evidence to prove what we're saying.”  
Mitch leaned back and rested his arm along the back of the couch. “So now you know it all. I'd say that rather than a cosmic joke, it's more like the fates are smiling kindly on us for a change.”  
Ally nodded, her fingers laced together, resting on her knees. “We'll go to the barrier command and get this an official seal of approval...”  
Jamie jumped in. “Why official? They usually just throw roadblocks in our paths or overly complicate the situation.”  
“Because if it's official, we can garner additional help to get us there in one piece. Do you really want to face what's beyond that wall on your own? Or with the additional back up of an armed escort.”  
Mitch chimed in. “We might even get some 'official' paperwork, so the cops can't arrest us again.”

They made their plans for the next day before calling it a night. Ally offered them the spare room, it was politely, but firmly refused. By now the gas-fired water heater had done its job and they took turns using the bathroom. Afterwards, they bid Ally goodnight and left her to lock up, heading for the comforts of the truck.  
“Do we need to post a watch?” Mitch asked, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Jamie shook her head.  
“I'll set the ground sensors instead, they'll give us enough warning is anything bigger than rabbit comes visiting.”  
Mitch raised an eyebrow at her. “We have ground sensors?”  
“One of my gadgets I haven't used yet. Been dying to try them out.”  
Later, locked up snugly in their truck, Jamie made a few adjustments on the tablet used to monitor the sensors placed outside. Mitch lay beside her, his glasses already beside the bed on their shelf.  
He watched Jamie dance her fingers over the glowing screen, reminding him of when she did something similar to get the landing gear to deploy.  
“I guess it's just as well the plane is grounded if getting hold of fuel is now a bust.”  
“Yeah, that sucks. Maybe we should consider stealing a petrol tanker to keep us supplied.”  
“Now that's a good idea. Mind you, anyone who is driving a petrol tanker right now will be pretty much thinking the same thing.” Mitch rubbed at his face, hearing the rasp of whiskers as he dragged his fingers over his skin. “Damn, this stuff grows fast.”  
Jamie let out a soft laugh. “Maybe you should let it grow and not worry about being clean-shaven.”  
Mitch shifted onto his side. “Nah. Not keen to turn into Grizzly Adam's again.”  
Jamie put aside the tablet after putting it into sleep mode. “Good. I rather like your scuff and 'just-got-out-of-bed' hair.” She turned back to face him. “So. I'm the love of your life. I like the sound of that.”  
“And smarter than the average bear, don't forget that.”  
Jamie giggled softly. “I won't.”  
They lay there, facing each other in the semi-gloom of the truck, listening to the sound of the other breathing.  
“Have I told you lately how grateful I am for every day we have together?” Mitch whispered.  
Jamie graced him with a sweet smile. “You may have mentioned it, once or twice.”  
“Just so you know.”  
“I won't forget.”  
Mitch turned on his back to let out a wide yawn, Jamie taking the opportunity to snuggle up close and wrap an arm around his chest, over one of his tattiest t-shirts.  
“You know, ordinarily this would have been consigned to the rag bag,” she observed, plucking at the soft but worn fabric stretched over his chest.  
“Not this one, it has a history...and it's autographed.”  
Jamie lifted her head to squint at the material in the dark.  
“Who autographed it, and in which century was that?”  
“Ha. Ha. Chris Cornell, two thousand and fourteen when Soundgarden toured with Nine Inch Nails. Awesome, awesome concert.”  
Jamie stopped her rhythmic stroking. “But....how?”  
Mitch chuckled softly. “Peggy gave it back to me.” He let that drop into the darkness, waiting until Jamie resumed her gentle circles on his chest. “I told you it had a history.”  
“You brought it for her?”  
“Nope. But good guess.”  
The gentle circling changed to a closed-fist thump.  
“Ow.”  
“Then don't tease. Peggy was your girlfriend?”  
“Just friend. A good friend, but just a friend. Had a thing for kilts.”  
Jamie snorted into his side. “You ass.”  
Mitch tilted his chin down to kiss her head. “I thought I looked rather good in a kilt.”  
“You don't have the legs for them,” Jamie retorted, back to drawing circles.  
“You'd fit right in, with that red hair, wearing a wee tartan bonnet, dancing like a kelpie.”  
Jamie convulsed beside him, shaking with laughter. “That is quite the worst Scottish accent I've ever heard!”  
Mitch just grinned into the darkness, glad that his glorious girl was relaxed and happy at his side, all thoughts of what they had to do and face the next day banished for a few precious moments. 

X-x-x-x-x

In the grey light of an overcast dawn they motored down the hill, Ally on her motorbike leading the way towards the big circular command center, already busy with uniformed soldiers evident despite the early hour. Ally was stopped some distance from the main gate, Jamie pulling the truck up a few meters behind her. They watched the officer of the day inspecting the paper's Ally produced from her leather jacket, the officer then took them to his post to speak to whoever was above him.  
The soldier was back after a few minutes and spoke to Dr. Scofield, handing back her papers and indicating for her to proceed into the compound beyond the gate.  
The same soldier then approached the Unimog, Jamie tensing as she lowered her window.  
“Follow Doctor Scofield. You can leave your vehicles in the underground parking, then make your way to command headquarters. Leave any weapons you carry in the vehicle. Understood?” He waited for Jamie to nod, then stood back, signaling to his men to stand back and let them through.  
“That went easier than I expected,” Mitch muttered, lifting a hand to wave at the soldiers on guard as they passed.  
“Getting in is never difficult. It's getting out that can prove challenging.” Jame retorted, sending him a knowing look.  
She followed Ally into a doppelganger of what they left in Boulder, although without a bloody great plane parked halfway through the wall. Here there was only fifteen-feet of solid concrete.  
“Half expect to see the guys waiting for us,” said Mitch, staring thoughtfully at the pristine walls and the numbers of black uniforms moving back and forth.  
They entered the parking space and found one to take the truck and trailer combined while leaving space for a quick getaway if needed. When Mitch sent her a quizzical look, Jamie informed him.  
“Always have a plan B, in case plan A goes to pot.”

Ally waited for them to catch up to her, then led the way into the building itself. Mitch and Jamie followed, not bothering to point out they were quite familiar with the layout, only surprised to see the place intact and untouched by gunfire or fighting, not at all what they'd left behind at Boulder.  
The command center was as they expected it to be, full of people at computer terminals, big screens displaying data and world maps, some animated, some showing news channels – those that were still broadcasting, mostly from the east coast stations.  
“Nice to see they're able to keep communication channels open, at least for now.” Mitch murmured to Jamie in an aside.  
They hung back when Ally walked up to, what looked like, the officer in charge. Unlike his counterpart Garrison, this one was in a uniform, not civvies. He was about the same age as Garrison, but that was where the similarity ended. He glanced over to where Jamie and Mitch stood, running his narrowed eyes over them before turning back to listen to the good Doctor. At length, both the doctor and the commander approached the couple.  
“Doctor Morgan, Miss Campbell, my name is Hardwicke. A pleasure to meet you both.” He shook their hands, then stood with his folded neatly behind his back. “Doctor Scofield has explained, somewhat, why you are here, but let's go to my office and you can tell me yourself.” Again he gave them a once over, taking in the leather jackets, Mitch's rather unkempt appearance, and Jamie's suspicious stare.  
“If you'll come this way?”  
They followed him out of the command center to a suite of glass-walled offices. Leading them to the largest, he indicated for them to take a seat while he went around a large desk and occupied the comfortably upholstered chair behind it.  
Hardwicke cleared his throat. “I am familiar with what Doctor Scofield is doing here, but I'm curious to know why I should let you through the barrier?”  
Mitch opened his mouth to say something scathing when Jamie placed a hand on his arm.  
“We were recently at the Boulder barrier control center under Garrison's command. We are associated with the IADG. Doctor Morgan was able to shut down the beacons activated by Abigail Westbrook across the world, leaving the one in Louisville. That was also shut down by us, a combined effort by members of our team. A call to Garrison will confirm what we are saying is true.”  
“I see. As you say, easy enough to confirm. If you will give me a moment?” He got to his feet and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Ally got to her feet and paced over to the big windows facing east, the mountains around them spectacular in the morning light, a mist hanging over the deeper parts of Butte.  
“I don't suppose he'll let us contact Vancouver and speak to our team?” Mitch asked. Ally turned and gave him a small smile.  
“Once he confirms your identity with this Garrison, I'm sure that will be the very least he'll have to offer you. I don't think you quite realize just how important you are, Mitch. You may want our help, but we need yours.”  
The door opened and Hardwicke re-entered, marching over to his desk to sit down. “Garrison has corroborated everything you've said so far. He confirmed you are part of the IADG coalition forces, that you were responsible for taking down the beacons, and if you are wanting to join your friends in Vancouver, I am to supply you with whatever you need to achieve that goal.”  
Mitch and Jaime shared a quick look.  
“What condition are the roads in, between here and there?” Jamie asked.  
“Depends. We used to send out patrols to keep the mountain passes clear of rock falls and washouts, but in recent years the hybrid issue has resulted in a higher casualty rate, so the patrols were discontinued, except to check the barrier itself along our stretch.”  
Mitch spoke up. “When the beacon was activated in the south, did you notice any difference in hybrid activity around here?”  
Hardwicke shrugged. “You'd have to consult with our monitoring team. They darted and tagged a number of animals to keep a track of their movements.”  
“I'll do that. In the meantime, how soon can we leave and head north?”  
Hardwicke hurumphed and stared out the window for a moment before turning back to face them  
“I will relay your request through the proper channels. I imagine your expedition will leave in around ten days, allowing for supplies and the organizing of men and equipment...”  
“Ten days!” Mitch jumped up off the couch. “We need to be there as of yesterday, not ten days from now.”  
Jamie stood up beside him. “The distance can't be more than a day's travel away. Why the long wait?  
Hardwicke lifted his chin. “I don't expect you to understand the logistics of putting together a platoon and supplying them with all they'll need, even if it is a two-day trip, there and back. You have no idea of the conditions beyond the barrier.”  
“We probably have a better idea than you do,” Jamie retorted, folding her arms across her chest.  
Ally had also risen but chose a more diplomatic approach. “ Commander, there is an issue of time involved in our mission. Would it benefit us to lay this before Headquarters in New York and see if they can expedite matters?”  
“You can try. Come through to our communications center.” He rounded the desk and led the three of them out into the bustle and business of the control center. 

 

Mitch sat with his forehead resting on the table top, his glasses laying discarded beside his hand.  
“Fuck, bureaucracy is frustrating.” He muttered into the unyielding surface.  
Jamie placed a paper cup of coffee near to his hand and sat down beside him. While she sipped her own brew, she rubbed her free hand up and down his back in an affectionate and soothing manner.  
“You really shouldn't let those pin-heads get to you. Garrison was the same, all bluff and bluster.”  
“I know, I know. They live to drive me nuts.” Mitch moaned, still face down.  
The cafeteria was half full of soldiers and staff eating their meals, some of them glancing at the two civilians sitting off to the side, obviously talking about them.  
Mitch finally lifted his head, leaving his glasses off, and sipped the dark brew. He glanced down at the cup in surprise. “This is good coffee!”  
Jamie smirked. “I smuggled in some of our private stash. What they drink here should only be used to soak engine parts in.”  
Mitch grinned at her and took a long, slow pull on his cup, relishing the flavor.  
Doctor Scofield appeared in the doorway and walked over to their table, garnering her share of curious looks, dressed as she was in her bike leathers.  
“Hey, guys. I've managed to convince them we need to be in Vancouver as quickly as possible. The timeline had been moved up to the day after tomorrow.”  
“That's an improvement. Any idea why they're dragging the chain on this?” Jamie asked.  
Ally shook her head. “Not really, but I did hear talk that they need to organize some heavy machinery to go with you.”  
“Whatever for?”  
“In case the roads are impassable, or bridges washed out, that sort of thing.”  
Mitch spoke up. “Great, Tonka toys to play with. Do we get the experts who know how to work them?”  
This time Ally nodded. “Actually you do. As luck would have it, the Commander was already going to be sending some civilian engineers to Vancouver at the end of the week, so they will be with you, as well as a number of units of IADG troops to protect you.”  
Mitch snorted. “They'd be better off protecting themselves. I hope those here have had better training in shooting, the ones at Boulder were easy targets for the hybrids.”  
“And we need to warn them about the water, and animal bites...” Jamie added.  
Ally nodded. “Yeah. Hardwicke is arranging for you two to give a lecture on all that before we leave.”  
Mitch drained his coffee cup, smacked his lips and leaned back in his chair. “So. Nothing really for us to do until two days from now.” He turned to Jamie and waggled his eyebrows. “Care to see if there's anything we forgot to pack in the truck, Miss Campbell?”  
Jamie laughed and got to her feet. “I'm sure we need to take and full and detailed inventory before we leave.” She winked at him and took off. Mitch grabbed his glasses and saluted Ally before taking off after her. 

 

Mitch lay on his back and panted, sweat gleaming on his forehead in the half-light of the back of the truck. Jamie sprawled across him, her naked body rosy and heated. She lifted her head to peer down at him. “Thank, God no one knows what we just did in here, I think it's probably listed as illegal in several states.” She levered herself upright then flopped to the side, her leg still laying over his.  
“With you squealing and this thing shaking, I imagine most of the command center knows what we've been doing in here!”  
Jamie looked taken aback for a second, then dissolved into giggles. “Oh, my God, we can't ever show our faces again!”  
Mitch raised his head to look at her. “You kidding? I'm gonna strut my stuff and let them know that I keep my woman satisfied.” He made his voice gruff, exaggerating his accent, causing Jamie to laugh louder until she buried her face in the pillows to muffle the sound. Emerging a few minutes later, very pink but smiling, she leaned over to kiss his cheek, rubbing her fingertips against the scruff of a day or two's growth.  
“And you do,” she whispered, biting his ear then soothing it with her tongue.  
Mitch, distracted by her warm breath feathering over his skin, didn't query her until the words sunk in. “Um....do what?”  
“Satisfy me.”  
“Oh. Good to know.” He shut his eyes and just enjoyed his boneless state. “Not bad for an old man.”  
A punch on the arm jerked him out of his blissful rest. “Ow!”  
“Don't start with that 'old man' bullshit.”  
“I'm knocking fifty, most would call that – if not old, at least middle age. Hell, I have a twenty-year-old daughter and I'm a....” He stopped abruptly.  
“You're a what?” Jamie teased.  
“Nothing. I'm a nothing at all, nah ah, not going to say it.”  
“Well, I'm not complaining, old man.”  
Mitch nodded and sent her a smug smile. “That's all that matters.”

The morning slipped into the afternoon and they used the time to talk and make love, not thinking about what lay ahead, or what had gone before, just enjoying being together, undisturbed and in a safe place. Neither wanted to hazard the odds, given past experience, when the chance would come again. 

z-z-z-z-z


	12. Wagon Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before *Shouts* ROAD TRIP!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could call this chapter the Intermission before the main event. I really do have a weakness for road trips, they let me explore all sorts of hidden nooks and crannies of a place.

Mitch had the air conditioning on full in an attempt to keep the windscreen from misting up. The rain made for poor visibility, the rear lights of the vehicle in front of them barely visible. They were into their first hour on the road and the situation was not improving.  
“And this is supposed to be the easy bit,” he muttered, squinting to see the road ahead through the water sluicing down from the heavy clouds.

x-x-x-x

The convoy had left the command center at the scheduled time. The estimated drive time, given good conditions and a clear road, to take no more than eight hours to reach Spokane in Washington State. That was the plan, but from the get-go, things were destined to deviate – majorly.  
The weather, which had been dry for days, now changed to continual downpours, drenching everyone and everything, as if making up for lost time. Their intended route would take them north and west on the eye-ninety interstate, then more westerly on some of the lesser highways if that proved impassable. For a while, the road followed roughly the barrier itself, then started to veer nor-westerly while the barrier now headed east to skirt the Glacier National Park area. 

Mitch had taken great delight in yelling, “Wagons Ho!” when they left the compound, noting with glee the look of disgust on Hardwicke's austere face. Doctor Scofield was riding in one of the IADG vehicles, her bike secured on a flatbed truck. Mitch expected that she was glad to be high and dry, not trying to slog her way through the water flowing freely everywhere you looked, on her motorcycle. He was certainly glad that the Unimog was specifically designed to deal with conditions just like these and his hand regularly patted the steering wheel like it was a trusty pet. 

Their train of vehicles was made up of three four-wheel-drive Humvees, two trucks similar in design to the Unimog, two big flatbeds carrying heavy machinery – a bulldozer and a backhoe, and one fuel tanker designed to supply both petrol and diesel. All were heavily armored, their drivers and passengers similarly carrying weapons and body armor, including vests, helmets, and large caliber guns. Mitch and Jamie hadn't pulled any punches in making the soldiers, traveling as escorts, drivers or support, aware of exactly what they would be up against. To dismiss the hybrids as 'just animals' was to sign their own death warrant. Hence the extra shielding on the sides and roof of every vehicle, the grill work over side and back windows, the extra lights and plenty of ammo. 

Initially, the roads beyond Butte and the barrier were good, the surrounding countryside appearing unchanged, just dirt and scrub with a ring of mountains all around in the distance. Positioned as they were in the middle of the convoy, they kept their distance from the Humvee in front and ignored the truck trying to climb into their trailer behind. If it wasn't for the perpetual downpour, it would have been a pleasant drive. Instead, water seemed to cover the land, not forgetting the quantity falling in a sheet from the sky. Looking out the side window, Jamie saw a torrent where a secondary road, running parallel but below theirs, had turned it into a river. When the interstate started to climb, the water now simply found any way possible to escape down the hill, across hard packed soil unable to absorb a fraction of the flood, digging channels and eating away at embankments. With nothing to stop it, the rain washed across the road and into the shallow gully running alongside, gouging out soil and sweeping away what few plants survived in the poor ground. The edges of the road surface appeared as if nibbled away by some giant rodent, looking ragged and split, in some places large bite-sized chunks creeping towards the yellow painted guidelines. They had been lucky so far that none of the overpasses had collapsed, the downpour ceasing for a second each time they passed underneath one.  
On the wet, but reasonable road surface they made good time, until their first obstacle – downed power lines blocking a bridge overpass. Once it was determined the cables were no longer 'live', they were quickly dismantled and dragged off the road, to be dropped over the side of the bridge.  
On a downhill run, a small puddle in a depression had become a huge lake, flooding both sides of the interstate. The convoy had to slow and simply wade through the knee-high water. For the flatbed trucks and Unimogs, this was nothing, for the Humvees - they had to slow down to prevent waves from the vehicle in front swamping the one behind. They also encountered downed power lines near Opportunity, the road again cleared quickly to allow them to proceed. 

While they traveled through the flattish landscape, Jamie used the binoculars to try and spot any animals or birds. At one point she excitedly pointed out a herd of creatures, she described as woolly rhino, peacefully standing in a small herd, oblivious to the rain pelting them. As the vehicles trundled past, the animals all raised their heads as one and stared, never moving but fully aware of the intruders in their patch.  
“We've been rumbled,” Mitch sighed, glancing at the dark shapes in the distance. “Once one group knows, they'll all know we're here.”  
“We don't know that for sure,” said Jamie, then recanted when she intercepted Mitch's cynical glance, including that damnable raised eyebrow. “But, you're probably right.”  
“First lesson we ever learned about the mutated animals. They could communicate beyond the line of sight or human hearing.” Mitch intoned, using his best lecturer voice. “Evidence of which, one leopard cub summoning its leap, one half-grown egg summoning hybrid wolves to collect it.”  
“Leap?”  
“Lion's have a pride, tigers have an ambush, leopards – a leap,” Mitch explained with a wave of his hand.  
“Oh. What about woolly rhino's?” Jamie asked her tongue firmly between her teeth.  
“Probably the same as the hairless variety – a crash,” Mitch told her, a twinkle in his eye. 

On the approach to Racetrack, they crossed a bridge spanning what would usually be just a stream, instead, it was in full flood, the engineers insisting on checking the supports before allowing the bigger trucks, and especially the tanker to make their way across.  
“If we keep this up, we'll be lucky to make it to Spokane by tomorrow, let alone later today!” Mitch grumbled. Jamie sent him a sympathetic smile and pulled out a disk to put in the cd player. A rousing beat filled the cab, distracting him from both the driving rain and his innate impatience. He tapped out the beat on the steering wheel while Jamie undid her seat belt and did a seat dance, wiggling and waving her arms to the music. Mitch soon joined in by pretending to have an air guitar, giving his best base player impersonation. As the music reached a crescendo, Jamie head-banging to the beat, a loud blast from a truck horn behind them jerked them out of their entertainment.  
“Oh. We're moving!” Jamie exclaimed, pushing her hair off her face and looking sheepish.  
“About bloody time.” Mitch turned on the ignition and they started to roll forward. “Nice headbanging by the way.”  
“Thank you. You strum a mean base,” Jamie replied, grinning.  
Mitch inclined his head and pressed the accelerator to catch up with the vehicle in front. 

Outside the town of Garrison, the rain started to lessen, the clouds becoming broken up. Soon the land started to rise again, the rounded hills meeting the edge of the road. At Drummond the railway lines paralleled the highway, on it they saw a long string of train carriages left abandoned in the middle of nowhere, already rusting and falling apart. The rain had reduced to a drizzle then finally cleared away, the convoy now able to pick up speed, making up for lost time. Bypassing the town, they saw several houses on the hills overlooking the interstate which appeared to have been swallowed by the trees and shrubs around them, only the rooves still visible above the rank growth.

On the approach to Bearmouth, they encountered nothing more dangerous than surface flooding an inch or two deep, while Jamie hadn't reported any animals since the woolly Rhino outside Butte. 

The interstate now followed the river valley of Clark Fork, the hills becoming more rugged and rocky. The clouds that had dumped their water on them, now thickened and wreathed the hills almost down to the road level. Their first indication of trouble from the road ahead was the warning sign for rock falls. Until now the road had fared well under several seasons of flooding and washouts, it was the hills themselves that were the new enemy, with loose soil, huge boulders, and unstable gravel screes.

Around a long corner, they saw rivulets of water, like mini-waterfalls, cascading down a scree slope, an avalanche of loose rocks already covering half the road with more trickling down even as they watched. The lead trucks crossed the median strip to the other side, pushing through saplings and tall weeds, into the eastbound lane, skirting the bigger boulders that dotted the ground between. The rest of the vehicles followed.  
The pattern repeated itself two more times before the hills started to flatten, the road winding through Clinton, open and clear. 

The deep Blackfoot river was in full spate when they crossed over using the eastbound lane again, the westbound sporting cracks that the engineers didn't like the look of. Their progress, so stop and start, was pushing the time it was taking just to complete the first leg, normally under a two-hour run, now pushing out to three and a half hours and they weren't at the halfway point yet. 

The thick cloud finally lifted when they drove into Missoula, two hours later than expected. The higher peaks of the Rockies loomed darkly on the horizon, their next stage taking them through the peaks and among more of the folding, tree-covered gullies and canyons until they emerged for the final run to Spokane. They would be crossing three state lines. Leaving Montana, briefly dipping into Idaho before making the final crossing into Washington.

They had pulled over on to the side of the highway, having a rest and bathroom break as well as an early lunch. Mitch and Jaime had pulled out a couple of camping chairs and sat in the weak sunshine just starting to appear, their backs against the side of the trailer, water bottles in hand, sunglasses on and legs crossed. Ally approached the pair, unable to keep the wide smile off her face.  
“Will you look at you two? Hardly think you were on a mercy mission!”  
Mitch looked over at Jamie who raised her eyebrows and pulled down her sunglasses to look over at Mitch.  
“We're on a mercy mission? Did you know this?” she asked Mitch, sarcasm heavy in her voice.  
Mitch just grinned up at Ally. “We're just here to make up the numbers, Doc.”  
Ally frowned down at them both, but couldn't suppress her smile for long. “We're lucky the condition of the roads has been making this trip a lot easier than I expected.”  
“What we've just been through was the easy bit,” said Mitch. “The next stretch will be much harder. Three hours through twisting roads, hairpin bends, narrow gorges and flooded river washouts.”  
Jamie picked up the thread. “More bridges, overpasses and river crossings, power lines, slips, rockfalls, and avalanches. All of it narrowed and compressed between sheer hills sides and high peaks.”  
Mitch turned to her. “You almost make it sound attractive, like a fairground ride or something.”  
Jamie looked back at him. “I do, don't I. Just as well I'll be driving.”  
They both turned to look up at Ally. She just shook her head and waved as she walked back to her vehicle.  
Jamie turned to her partner. “Was it something I said?”

The next stretch of highway took them beyond the deserted suburbs of Missoula into open country for a short time, grass reaching fingers of greenery across the asphalt surface, tall weeds prospering in any crack or accumulation of dirt found there. Most were easily driven over, while the widlings growing in the center strip were still small enough to drive through if they needed to avoid the few stranded cars and trucks littering the interstate. 

Along one area there was a fence edging the road, and on the opposite side for some distance were planted deciduous trees, several years worth of their leaves now heaped in large drifts that overtopped the fence like brown snow. The lead vehicles started sending up flurries of leaves that circled around their trucks as if they were in a snow globe with dirty snowflakes, some settling on windshield and roof, hanging on like stowaways. 

Before long, pines, larch and white spruce were becoming the dominant trees as the road climbed, the hills once more closing in around them and the clouds that had cleared, now lowering and hiding the tops of peaks in dense mist. They crossed the Clark Fork River three times, the bridges still intact if a bit weed infested. With no wind from the passage of cars to sweep seeds, leaves, and dirt off the surface they were becoming more 'green' than grey and the road marking disappearing.

When they reached Alberton, a television and radio tower had crashed to the ground. The head of it with its dishes and antennae, as well as its support frame, were laying across both lanes in a tangled mess of metal and wires. There was no way around it, not for the bigger trucks at least, they would have to cut a path through.

Jamie and several other sharpshooters had positioned themselves on the top of the highest truck cabs, for the best possible look out advantage, while everyone else worked to cut away the metal tower blocking their way. Mitch was down there helping and Jamie would check on him, picking him out of the crowd of black uniforms easily, before returning to her search of the treeline for any evidence of hybrid activity. Her powerful binoculars were able to bring everything into sharp and close focus, her slow sweep alert to any movement at all. A shout rang out, Jamie focusing her enhanced vision where the soldier was pointing. She could clearly see a number of animals standing between the tree trunks, keeping just far enough into the shade to prevent them being identified.  
“I count nearly thirty,” she shouted, adding to the others who also had their glasses zeroed in on the spot. “Thirty-five,” another called out.  
Those working to clear the barrier had paused at the first alert, now they worked feverishly to clear the last few girders laying across the road.  
Jamie switched to looking through the scope of her high powered rifle, noting that the animals, whatever they were, hadn't moved but just watched the activity on the road below their vantage point. She calculated that if they charged, the men would have a scant few minutes to get back into their vehicle cabs. She risked a look down at the work area, noting that Mitch and Doctor Scofield were being sent back to their respective trucks, leaving only about twenty of the soldiers to carry on the clearance. She turned her eyes back to the rangefinder, just in time to see an animal appear from among the trees.  
It stepped out as if treading on eggshells, a high stepping gate on slender legs and small hooves.  
“They're deer,” one of the snipers shouted, a note of relief in his voice.  
Jamie watched the creature. There was something off about it. “Don't stop watching them!” she shouted at the other snipers. “Get everyone else back into their vehicles.”  
The creature that had put itself in the line of fire stepped forward again, its head, neck, and body clear of the trees. The sun chose that exact moment to appear briefly through a gap in the clouds, illuminating that stretch of road and forest. Light flashed off the antlers on the deer's head, the animal tossing them, making them glint like long knives.  
As if being gored by an ordinary bone antler wasn't bad enough, this animal had the equivalent of swords and knives on its heads. The body seemed strange to her as well, where there should be fur, there appeared to be some sort of leather plating, even up its neck and down its legs.  
Someone was shouting and she broke her concentration to listen.  
“Jamie! We're leaving, get down here!” It was Mitch. Not bothering to check on the mutated deer again, she scrambled down off the flatbed truck cab and ran for their Unimog. Mitch had the passenger side door open for her and she jumped onto the step, hauling herself into the cab and slamming the door. Mitch already had the truck moving, threading it through the gap they'd made in the crumpled metalwork, all of the other vehicles stepping on the gas to put as much distance between them and the scary, dangerous looking deer.  
“Are they following?” Jamie asked, strapping herself in after stowing her gun.  
“Nope. Just that one standing out there, taunting us.” Mitch answered, his eyes flicking between the road and the side view mirror. “I got some footage we can check out later.”  
“It had some sort of armor, instead of fur, and those antlers...” she trailed off, still hardly believing what she saw with her own eyes. “If you didn't kill one with the first shot, you certainly wouldn't get a second chance.”

They could no longer see halfway up the encroaching hills and slopes, the cloud cover now a dense fog that created a strange light above them, and poor visibility all around. The river was now on their left, wide and deep, in some ways protecting them from anything approaching from that side, and with the steep hillside on the right, there was little chance any animal would attack from that quarter. After passing the hamlet of Cyr, they saw up ahead that the land had been scorched, the earth blackened and trees no more than stumps. Even the road showed signs of the ferocity of the blaze, with areas of the tarmac melted, lane paint burnt off, and the metal crash rails bent and twisted by the heat. It went on for mile after mile. With no human intervention to quell the flames, it had devastated a huge swathe of the national park. It must have been so immense they might have even seen the smoke from as far away as the barrier, on a clear day. The trucks whipped up mini-tornadoes of ash, leaving behind flurries of smokey grey dust to coat everything. Only down by the river's bank were there any signs of a recovery, with bright green growth showing – but only beside the water's edge.

Ahead was another river crossing, still within the fire zone, the engineers once again stopping their progress, wanting to check the structure. This time no one complained. Looking upstream of the bridge they could see the remains of huge metal pipes that at one time could have carried gas or water, now they lay blackened and split, fallen down opposite banks of the river. Behind the pipes was the steel railway bridge, one end collapsed and mangled and canted at an angle, the broken end buried in the river bed. The rail lines themselves were still clinging to the bank like cables, suspended in mid-air. The engineers didn't hang about but declared the bridge usable and everyone drove over. On reaching the other side, a fine drizzle started. It was raining. Again. 

At Quartz Flat they passed a rest stop full of dozens of abandoned trucks, some with curtain sides ripped to shreds, others tipped on their sides. Several were burnt out shells, down to the tires, leaving a scorched circle around each one.  
“Playground for hybrids.” Mitch quipped. The convoy glad to leave them behind, the sight depressing for even the toughest among them. 

Time and again they crossed and recrossed the Clark Fork River, braiding its way along the valley bottom. Forced as they were, to rely on the skill of the original bridge builders, they were grateful that the structures survived in such good order. 

When the fire-blackened wasteland gave way once more to green trees, everyone was thankful. Soon enough, though, the endless march of evergreens became as tedious as the endless flatlands of the prairies. As one hour became three, then four it seemed that the landscape would never change, never vary. The rain eased at last, which was a relief, but the clouds didn't lift, the day dreary and grey with no sun to lift the spirits. 

St.Regis was where the interstate split with the westbound lane on one side of the St. Regis River, and eastbound lane out of sight on the other bank. Deep rocky cuttings flanked their road, trapping them against the river's edge. There were numerous small rock falls, but nothing big enough to slow them down. 

Soon enough they were reunited with the eastbound side, a concrete divider between them.  
The interstate continued to wind and wiggle its way through the hills, a rockfall-fence on their side helping to limit the amount of rock and earth reaching the roadway, although larger rocks had broken the chainlink in places, it had been enough to slow the boulders down before rolling onto the road.

Just past the Haugen weigh station, they ran into trouble in the shape of an entire hillside that had slumped and completely covered the road clear to the river. It was time to break out the big toys.

Mitch was glad to get out and stretch his legs, a cramp in one calf making him gasp and stamp his foot on the ground to get it to release. Jamie appeared beside him at that moment.  
“War dance?”  
“Cramp.”  
“Magnesium.”  
“Magnesium, to you too.”  
Jamie tutted. “I'll get some for you, it'll help.”  
“No, I want the stuff that makes it worse!” he snarked to her back, stamping and hobbling to get the muscles moving again. He made to sit on the concrete barrier separating the two lanes but found that uncomfortable, so hobbled back to the truck in time for Jamie to reappear carrying a bottle of water and some capsules.  
“Here. Take these. Drink all the water.” She instructed, her expression impassive.  
Mitch bit back what he'd been about to say and instead just took the offerings and swallowed them down. The jangling rumble of the bulldozer made them turn around to watch its progress off the back of the flatbed to the road surface. From there it rattled and clanked its way on caterpillar tracks to the front of the queue and started using it's huge metal blade to push the loose scree to the side. After fashioning a shallow ramp the dozer made its lumbering way across the slip, the blade pushing aside the bigger rocks and leveling the gravel to create a temporary road. Another hour passed, their chances of reaching Seattle, let alone Vancouver before the day was over, quickly slipping away. They'd be lucky to reach Spokane before it got dark. 

“I'm going to lay down,” Jamie announced. “We could be here awhile.”  
He watched her walk to the back of the truck. She reappeared a moment later with a pillow, her rifle and a blanket. Intrigued, he watched her clamber up the short ladder to the top of their trailer where she made herself a simple bed and lay down. Rubbing absently at his calf, he sat down on the driver's side step, consigning the lingering ache to the devil.

In the end, it took three and a half hours to create a hard enough surface, using the combined efforts of the bulldozer and backhoe, for the vehicles to negotiate. The four-wheel drives had no difficulty making their way through, the road building effort was more for the flat-beds and tanker. Without their cargo of heavy machinery, the eighteen-wheeler flat-beds tilted and wobbled their way across, followed by the twenty-six wheeled tanker, which crawled along, negotiating the uneven, unstable surface at a steady pace, thankfully without suffering a blow-out. 

Before long, the 'Tonka toys' were back onboard their respective trucks and the convoy got underway.

Rockfalls continued to slow them down. Most were small enough to either drive around or roll right over, only needing the removal of the central concrete barrier. All along the way, they encountered the ravages years of weather had wrought - the skeletons of fallen trees, cracks and gouges in the road surface from water runoff, frequent rock slides and dirt strewn over both sides of the interstate. For most they just had to divert to the other lane, sometimes employing chainsaws to cut down small trees and saplings to clear a path through the medium strip.

They had been on the road now past the eight hours normally required to make the trip. Each holdup, every diversion, stretched out the ETA until Mitch was convinced it would be dark before they reached their initial destination of Spokane. They were well up into the clouds now, the thick mist slowing them further. At Lookout Pass they crossed the state line into Idaho, passing the faded welcome sign as they rolled on the long downhill side, fog casting a pall of light, headlights barely piercing the grey mass. As they coasted down the highway, for once free of any obstacles, they were granted a brief glimpse of the majestic, tree-covered Bitterroot mountains rising clear of the ever-present cloud layer and marching off into the distance.  
Abandoned road work paraphernalia appeared out of the fog, bright orange warning signs reflected back their headlights, while squashed cones and a bright blue porta-potty flashed by. Whatever the long-ago workman had been doing, they'd left behind a great piece of road.

Around Mullan, their sterling progress was halted by fallen lamp-posts, the tall lights laying like discarded chopsticks across both east and westbound lanes. Hampered by this and the clinging fog, they made slow inroads clearing a path through. Everyone was becoming weary of the stop-start progress, the poor visibility making driving a more stressful-than-necessary task. Every time there was a stoppage, Mitch and Jamie changed over seats, whoever was not driving quickly disappearing into the back of the truck to lay down, rest their eyes and brain, and stretch out. It meant neither one was tired out or too stressed to remain a hundred-percent alert. They saw the soldiers do pretty much the same, rotating their drivers in the trucks and tanker, making sure everyone was relieved on a regular basis. Even a short break was better than none. 

At Wallace, they had to take a major detour to avoid a collapsed overpass. Both sides were compromised and the engineers were not keen to test how stable that whole stretch of interstate was, so they turned around the found the closest off-ramp, wending a route through the abandoned township, until they emerged past the broken section with only a short stretch to negotiate before getting back on to solid ground. They'd been lucky the town could provide the side roads, if it had happened in the hills, they would have had to cut their own road which could have taken days to complete. 

To everyone's eternal relief the heavy fog lifted as they passed through Kellog, the land, like the clouds lifting away from the road, clearing the way for the last slog into Spokane. Toppled street lamps were still an issue but now they had a relatively quick fix with everyone, but the drivers and civilians, lifting the downed metal work and shifting it, en masse, to the side of the road. If they saw another not far off, they didn't bother to get back into the vehicles, they just jogged to the next, then the next and so on, clearing the way quickly and efficiently. Twenty-plus healthy young men could easily shift any number of fallen street lights in record time this way.

While the afternoon dragged on, they came closer to their goal, the weather finally starting to co-operate, granting them a weak, watery sun as the clouds lifted and dispersed, and a landscape that left the roads unblocked by nothing more threatening than weeds. When they reached and passed through Canyon, they knew it was just one last stretch of road through an area of the Coeur de'Alene National Forest to safely navigate before reaching the outskirts of Spokane, which would now be their stop for the night.  
Mitch lifted his hand to give a high-five when he saw the first green sign giving the distance to Spokane as fifty miles. Considering they'd just traveled two-hundred and sixty of those miles under difficult circumstances, it was worth celebrating. Lowering his hand, he had to content himself with a fist bump for the steering wheel instead. Jamie was asleep in the back.

Sunshine now slanted through the encroaching trees, lending them a benevolent aspect and sending long shadows across the road. As the road continued to twist and turn, sunstrike became a real hazard, Mitch donning sunglasses and lowering the windscreen visor to give him a clearer view of the truck up ahead. Off to the left, an expanse of water appeared, the interstate hugging the shores of Wolf Lodge Bay as it approached the city of Coeur de'Alene. Their route took them over a spectacular raised overpass with wonderful views over the water on both sides. The lake stretched off into the distance, rewarding the travelers with a sparkling display of nature at her best. Mitch held his breath as they crossed the eye-ninety sky bridge, a third of a mile of breathtaking views, three hundred feet above a valley, of the lake and surrounding hills. He had to physically relax the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel when they reached the other side. 

The road remained clear of any major obstacles, only the occasional abandoned truck or car to swerve around as they traversed the center of the city to reach the other side. As they barrelled through, their wake tossed around the windblown rubbish accumulated up against the concrete center barrier, sending it flying up into the air and scattering it behind them. It was like driving through a blizzard of waste, plastic bottles bounced up to hit the windscreen, followed by a length of plastic sheeting that insisted on wrapping itself around their spotlights and streaming like a ribbon from the roof. 

When they passed McGuire, they saw another downed communications tower, this one set far enough back from the highway to miss it neatly when it collapsed. Debris was scattered across the highway, but nothing that could impede their progress, this time. 

With the sun setting directly in front of them, they prepared to cross from Idaho into Washington state, the sky clear of all but the highest cloud and turning a deep blue, as if welcoming them and congratulating them on surviving the trip through the Rockies. The trucks behind and in front all sounded their horns as they crossed the invisible line marked by the Spokane River and a broken welcome sign on the other side. As they wended their way smoothly through the commercial district they passed a large American flag still hanging from its fifty-foot pole, the edges ragged and the color bleached from it, but still flying like the last man standing. A little further along they saw another, even more ragged, half hanging from its snap-clip, in front of a Harvey Davidson showroom, the windows smashed and space inside empty of stock. 

They drove on through the Spokane Valley industrial area, the roads and buildings empty and silent. What traffic littered the tarmac had been pushed to the side, left with doors open and windscreens smashed, relics of when the city had been busy and alive. A cell-tower had been hit by a truck and now lay, like a broken straw, across the truck's cab, bent in half. Further along again, they saw a water tower where one of its supports had buckled, the ellipsoid shape, like a downed UFO, laying drunkenly on its flattened side, across the eastbound lane, its reservoir of water long since drained from a rusted split seam where it hit the road. 

The inner city interstate bypass had been widened to a four-lane as well as being fenced on all sides, creating a concrete causeway with no trees, no hills, and no water. Apart from a few rough patches and pot-holes, it was the best bit of road they'd traveled all day with few weeds finding enough dust or dirt to grow in. The sun had now gone from the sky, leaving behind a colorful sunset but also harboring the onset of night. The leader of their convoy, a Captain Stevens, had a place in mind for an overnight stop, everyone else dutifully following along behind as they left the interstate and started to negotiate their way through the side roads, heading for a string of motels that were near the international airport.

It was now dark enough to need headlights, several of the vehicles activating their spotlights as well. At length, they were led into a capacious carpark outside a multi-storey motel complex that was to be their overnight stop. It seemed that everything had been thought of, two soldiers carting a diesel generator into the main building so that before long lights came on all over, including the ones in the car park, dispelling the evening gloom. 

While the engines ticked quietly to themselves as they cooled down, each truck took their turn in getting a refill from the tanker, depending on what they required. Jamie unhitched the trailer and took the truck over to be topped up, as well as an empty jerry-can for reserve. Mitch joined one of the groups of IADG soldiers to inspect the accommodations.  
Apart from a layer of dust, and some cobwebs, the place was in reasonable shape, with no appreciable damage apart from a few broken windows that were probably the victims of bird strike or hailstones. It was decided they would occupy the central building's rooms, rather than the individual chalets surrounding it. It would be easier to defend and retreat from just one area, than try to defend multiples.  
Most of the rooms had twin singles or a double and single, the men organizing themselves accordingly. Ally opted for a room on her own, next to the Captains, while Mitch and Jamie stuck with their truck and refused the room put forward for their use.  
They did use some of the facilities. There was a sizable laundry, so a chance for clean clothes and linens seemed too good to pass up. Cold water was available from the motel's own water tanks, and the dryers looked brand new. The kitchens had been left in a pristine state apart from the inevitable layer of dust and a few spiders webs. There was even enough gas in the bottles to fire up the stove and cook a hot meal. It was if the owners had just stepped out and intended to come back in a day or so. Before long, soldiers and civilians were eating a meal in the hotel dining room like ordinary travelers, glad to have somewhere to rest after a long, stressful day on the road. 

“How's the leg?”  
“Fine.”  
“Magnesium worked?”  
“Yup.” Mitch sighed quietly, feeling mad at himself for being so boorish. “Sorry.”  
Jamie turned her head on the pillow towards him. “What for?”  
“For being a grumpy bastard.”  
She burrowed under the covers and found his hand, lacing his strong fingers with hers.  
“It's been a long, and tiring day,” she said softly.  
“No excuse. You didn't cause all the delays and lousy weather.”  
“True. Doesn't stop it from being a shit day.”  
Mitch huffed again. “Probably be just as bad tomorrow.”  
Jamie let out a soft laugh. “Now, you're being a grumpy bastard.”  
“I know. Hey, I bet Abe will get a kick out of those deer we saw. Can't wait to hear him explain how they got those wicked antlers.”  
“I imagine he'll have no better ideas than you. Abigail is the only one who knows exactly how all these mutations are happening. She engineered them.”  
“Mad woman. Who the fuck would want to take those fuckers on?”  
“Maybe that's the point. Not that I think the deer have suddenly become meat eaters, but they sure are less likely to end up on someones mantlepiece or plate if they can fight back and be protected from guns and arrows.”  
“But it's all wrong,” Mitch argued gesturing with his free hand. “If they are so much more able to protect themselves, they won't be eaten by other predaters like bears, mountain lions, wolves. At the rate they usually breed they could over populate their feeding grounds and become an investation. Predators, by feeding on the prey, keep nature in balance. Upset that balance and the whole system collapses.”  
Jamie let out a soft snort. “I think that boat has already sailed. The catalogue of mutated species is growing every day, and we don't even know how or if it's affecting humans. I wouldn't be surprised if Gaia didn't just pack her bags and tell everyone she'll come back when it's all over.”  
Mitch let out a chuff of laughter. “How very hippy of you. Gaia?”  
“Why not? Gaia is just another name for the biosphere of the Earth.”  
“Well...yes.” Mitch turned his head to face her so they were now almost nose to nose. “I just...I guess I never associated the two like that.”  
Jamie smiled at him. “You mean myth and science all mixed up together?”  
“You gotta admit, usually one tends to stomp all over the other. Mythology is just fairystories and tall tales, while science...”  
“...Can be just theory and conjecture, not hard facts.”  
“Sometimes. How did we get onto this topic?”  
“Deer with knives for antlers,” Jamie reminded him.  
“Oh. Nah, I'm bored with that. You tired?”  
Jamie laughed, her teeth visible in the half-light of the truck. “Never too tired for that.”  
Mitch returned her grin with a toothy one of his own. “Good answer, now come over here...”

x-x-x-x-x


	13. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damnable epic is taking on a life of its own. Again, not a medical doctor, just spent a bit of time over the years being a patient.

They were woken by the sound of gunfire, Jamie quickly reaching for her tablet, checking on her security sensors and bringing up the camera feed from the front of the truck and rear of the trailer.   
“Oh, my God. Mitch, wake up!”  
“I'm awake...what is it?” Putting his glasses on, he struggled to focus in the semi-dark.  
“No, no, no...dammit I should have set it lower.”  
“Jamie? What are you talking about?”  
“The ground sensors, I should have made them more sensitive.”  
A burst of automatic fire made them push back the covers and get into a crouched position.  
“What's happening out there?” Mitch asked, reaching up to push back the dividing access hatch between the cab and where they were. He ducked when a bullet whined past the Unimog, another glancing off the windshield. “Why the hell are they shooting at us?”  
“They're not...look!”   
Mitch stared at the tablet in her hands. The screen was split between the front and back camera. The feed was silent, only black and white, but it still had the ability to send shivers down his back.  
Streaming across the ground, heading towards each of the vehicles as fast as their sinuous bodies could carry them, were a plague of snakes, not just one species, but a whole host of different types, venomous, non-venomous, constrictors, vipers and all.  
Jamie was on her feet closing the vents inside the truck, then dived through to the cab to close the air vents in there as well. Mitch was still watching the small screen, mesmerized by the snakes seemingly infesting the vehicles parked around them. Gunfire could still be heard.  
“What the hell are they shooting at? The snakes?” Mitch yelped, his voice carrying a note of panic.   
Jamie snatched the tablet from him and adjusted the view, moving the cameras to better see the front of the motel.  
“Nope. This is what they're shooting at.” She passed it to him and Mitch stared at the screen. While the snakes writhed and slithered about the equipment, the motel was under siege from what was usually a benevolent collection of small mammals – stoats, beavers, squirrels, rats, marmots, mice, rabbits, coyotes, and foxes. All of them were climbing and clambering about the building, scratching at doors and in some cases chewing through them.   
“That has to be the most bizarre sight we've seen, to date,” Mitch breathed, passing the tablet back to Jamie. “Don't the reptiles usually eat the mammals or vice-versa?”  
“I always thought so...” She stopped speaking to toggle the rear camera again. “Um...we have company.”  
“More?” Mitch practically squeaked, gasping to catch his breath.  
“How about bears, mountain lions, and bobcats. I think I see a Lynx in there as well.”  
“But...” Mitch started, only to be cut off.  
“Yeah...they usually eat the small mammals and reptiles...I know!”  
As they watched the action around them they tried to see what was happening inside the building. Muzzle flashes were not so frequent, Jamie imagining the men to be organizing some sort of barricade to keep the creatures from over-running their position. “And there's not a shit load we can do to help them,” she muttered, running through an inventory in her head of their own arsenal.  
Mitch had his head tilted, listening. The truck wobbled as if something huge was brushing against it as it passed. “Just how big are those fucking bears?”  
Jamie quickly switched her view screen from the front to the rear camera.  
“Pretty damn big. Didn't you say you wanted to see one of those big, woolly rhinos up close?”  
Mitch looked at the screen, just as the truck was jostled again. Sure enough, it was a whole herd of the large beasts, dwarfing the smaller vehicles, their wicked looking horns as long as a man's leg.  
“Jamie?”  
“Yeah?”  
“How long can we stay in here if the air vents are closed?”

What remained of the night dragged on, the sounds of scuffles and slithering, snorts and growls keeping them tense and awake. They had fashioned a fine metal mesh to cover one of the air wents, securing it tightly to prevent anything getting inside, before re-opening it. When Mitch shone a torch into the space, he saw a number of small snakes writhing and pressing up against the mesh, pushing as hard as they could to get inside the truck. He wasn't an expert on snakes, but even if they weren't venomous they could give a nasty bite, and being bitten by a mutated, or even semi-mutated beastie was not on his list of things happening to him or to Jamie. Instead, he held up a can of spray which had the effect of driving the snakes out of the vent, allowing fresh air to flow once more. Drawing in a deep breath he turned from the vent and went to sit down on the mattress.  
“So we have air, we have water, some food and, at a pinch, bathroom facilities. Depending on how long we're stuck in here, the worst that will happen is it won't smell like roses after a while.”  
Jamie lifted her head and smiled at him. “I can live with that. Although, given what the time is, I don't think we're going to be stuck here much longer.” She passed him the tablet and he stared at the silent images.  
“Look's like there's less of them since the last count.”  
Jamie nodded in agreement. “I've been watching, and they are leaving, slowly but surely, even some of the smaller mammals are taking off.” She switched to the front view for him. “And the big guys are just standing there, not doing anything at all.”  
Mitch stared at the animals milling around the motel and trucks, all of them seemingly aimless, not attacking the doors or windows, just standing about and preventing anyone from escaping or reaching the vehicles. Where a door had been chewed or broken, they wandered in then wandered out, not making any attempt to harass the soldiers in the building.  
“I don't understand. Why bring in the tanks then not use them?”  
Jamie sent him a quizzical look. “The tanks being the woollies?”  
“Yeah. Think of the snakes and small mammals as the infantry, searching for a weakness, testing the firepower of the enemy. Then you have the larger mammals, they could be the equivalent of trucks or jeeps with machine guns or small caliber anti-aircraft guns. Then you have the tanks – the rhinos and bears bringing up the rear.”  
Jamie nodded her understanding of the analogy. “But they're not attacking or even attempting to find the guys inside, or even try to dig us out of here.”  
“That's assuming they know we're in here.” Mitch retorted. As if to remind him what was out there the truck was jostled violently, the truck swaying for a few seconds.   
Jamie had braced herself against one of the walls. “I think they know we're here.”  
“And yet, we are still alive.” He had dropped the tablet to brace himself, now Jamie picked it up.  
She checked her watch. “It will be dawn soon.”  
“Good. The nocturnal creatures will be leaving to return to their dens, I'm supposing. Wonder if the big guys will do the same.”

They waited tensely, listening and watching as the sky outside lightened and the creatures started to drift away, the snakes slithering past like a moving carpet of different patterns, the smaller mammals scuttling up trees or disappearing into the overgrown shrubs surrounding the carpark. Only when the sun broached the horizon and sent spears of orange light through the trees did the larger mammals start to leave, the rhinos still managing to jostle the Unimog, as if to remind the humans inside that they were aware of them. Fifteen minutes after sunrise and there wasn't a creature to be seen. If they didn't have the footage as evidence, combined with the damage done to the motel, along with piles of herbivore excrement scattered about, you'd never believe what had happened. 

Jamie and Mitch dressed in heavy boots, leather jackets, and gloves, carrying dart guns as a precaution, exited their truck via the top hatch. The roof was clear so they stood there for a moment, assessing the safety of their position. A shout from the motel drew their attention to the second floor, where Captain Stevens was waving to them.  
“All clear?” he asked, Doctor Scofield at his elbow.   
“Are you both alright?” she called out, staring about the carpark with suspicious eyes. “Have they all gone?”  
Jamie was looking towards the trees, scanning for any movement or indication that there were not alone. “Look's like they've all gone.”  
“Just watch where you walk!” Mitch cautioned, following her to the ground.   
Cautiously they stepped around the heaps of poop, Mitch unable to stop himself and crouching down to poke at the different scat, in full veterinary pathologist mode.   
“I need to take samples of this,” he announced.   
“Of course you do,” Jamie responded, moving towards the trailer to check it for any damage. “I'll get the kit.” She was glancing back at Mitch and didn't see the small snake, barely a foot long, wrapped around the safety chain on the trailer bar. She caught the snake's motion to strike out of the corner of her eye, the tiny reptile – jaw extended wide, latching on to her trouser seam even as she stepped back, the snake not letting go.   
“Dammit!” Her exclamation drew Mitch, who quickly grabbed the thrashing snake by the back of the neck and unhooked it, pulling it away. It immediately wrapped its body and tail about his leather covered wrist, as if to squeeze him to death.   
“Feisty little fucker. Let's get that kit and something to put him in.”  
Jamie got Mitch's kit bag and found a secure plastic container to hold the writhing snake. Mitch happily left that in her care while he went to collect a number of different fecal samples into ziplock bags.  
Captain Stevens and Ally appeared, along with the other IADG men, and spread out through the carpark to check on their respective vehicles.   
“Watch for snakes, not all of them have gone,” Jamie cautioned, holding up the container to show their tiny captive. 

Each truck was thoroughly searched and checked over, several more reptile booby traps found and removed, one a sizable rattler that was treated with great caution, left to thrash about in a pillow case while they continued their search. Every snake they found displayed an unreasonable level of aggression, well beyond their usual species expectation. They were lucky that one of the soldiers was experienced in snake handling and was able to capture and manhandle the vicious viper into the bag without being bitten. Once they'd placed all the captured snakes into bags, they did a double check, finding a couple more that were wrapped around engines and exhaust pipes, one even inside an exhaust pipe. After the second search, they had nearly two dozen knotted pillowcases lined up, all of them moving as the reptiles inside thrashed and writhed in an attempt to escape and attack. 

“I never knew there were so many different snake species in this area?” Ally observed, standing near to where the snakes were being put in their bags. “And all so angry.”  
Mitch came to stand next to her, his sampling done. “Attacking is usually a purely defensive action, a snake's first reaction to danger is to run away or threaten. Elevated hormone levels could account for some of this, but to maintain it for long periods of time are just not...” He shook his head. “Look, I'm not an expert on snakes, far from it, but even I know this is unusual. Snakes just don't go looking for people to attack, they only use it as a last resort, in most species.”  
Ally looked down at the wriggling pillowcases. “I once heard about an Australian species that chases people.”  
Mitch laughed. “Sorry. It was probably about an Eastern Brown, or Taipan. Yes, they are a couple of the most venomous snakes in the world, and the Taipan will try to give multiple bites if it feels threatened, which could appear as if it was chasing you or even be trying to reach cover that happens to be near to where you are standing, which could also be misconstrued as chasing, but talk to any reputable snake handlers and they'll quickly debunk that myth. People give snakes the same traits as humans, but it's just nonsense.” He pointed to the pillowcases. “It's possible these animals have been infected by the hybrids, in fact, I'd say they have definitely been infected, and that is what is causing this aberrant behavior.”  
“Handling snakes is all in the body language,” another voice chimed in. Mitch and Ally turned to see the soldier who had caught the rattler. “If you approach them slowly, don't make any sudden moves and read what the animal is trying to tell you, snakes aren't hard to handle.”  
Ally snorted. “So what's your take on why....this?” she indicated the wriggling bags.  
The soldier shrugged. “No idea. Even more surprising is that they aren't calming down now they're in bags. That always works.”  
“Like putting a blindfold over an animals eyes usually calms them right down,” Mitch added.  
“Yeah. Like that,” the soldier agreed.  
They stood there for a few more minutes, then Ally spoke up. “Is it my imagination or are they calming down?”  
Mitch and the soldier approached one of the bags, the soldier assuring him that the snake inside was normally as tame as a kitten to handle. Mitch poked the bag, his gloved finger connecting with the body inside, but there was no reaction. The two men exchange a glance before the soldier picked up the pillowcase and started to undo the knot. While he worked, Mitch watched the outline of the snake inside for any hint of movement. There was none. With the knot untied, the soldier cautiously opened the bag, ready to twist it shut if the snake tried to strike. It didn't.   
“It's dead,” he pronounced, reaching into the bag and pulling out a two-foot-long striped whipsnake, the creature now limp, mouth agape.  
Mitch quickly checked the other bags, getting a variety of results, from no response at all, to a sluggish strike against the material of the bag. When they checked, they found that most of the non-responsive were like the whipsnake – dead. Only the rattler managed a token response to the bag being opened, the creature more dead than alive when they tipped it onto the ground. It couldn't even move, the rattle on the end of its tail moving feebly, then not at all.  
“Dead, like the rest,” said Mitch, using the toe of his boot to nudge it.   
Ally took a step back, her face showing her distaste. “You sure?”  
“Yup. Dead animals are my specialty.” He gestured to the soldier. “Bag these up again. I'll take them with us. I'd like to see what actually killed them, rather than try to guess.”

Jamie didn't blink when she was presented with two dozen pillowcases to find room for.   
“More samples, Mitch - really?” she called out.  
“What I live for!” he shouted back.

X-x-x-x-x

“Just another four-hundred miles to go,” Mitch announced once they were on the road again, leaving Spokane. “An easy drive - quick trip to the foothills, hop across the Columbia, through the Cascades, up the coast and we're there.”   
“Piece of cake,” Jamie chimed in, the map of that very area held up for her to scrutinize. “Should be there by lunchtime, no problem.”  
“Hah! Ever the optimist, it's what I love about you.”  
Jamie lowered the map and turned to regard him. “Want to know what I love about you?”  
Mitch glanced her way briefly, then turned his attention back to the road. “Sure.”  
Jamie went back to her map perusal, leaving him hanging. Mitch watched her out of the corner of his eye.  
“Well?” he finally asked.   
Jamie looked up as if surprised. “Well?”  
“What do you love about me?”  
Jamie grinned. “That you always take the bait.”  
“Ouch. I'm wounded.”  
Jamie reached over and rubbed his arm. “It's only a flesh wound.” She let out a deep sigh, folding the map before speaking again. “What do I love about Mitch Morgan, let me count the ways...”  
Mitch interrupted. “Are you going to be all mushy on me?”  
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to keep interrupting me?”  
Mitch made a motion as if zipping his lips.  
“I love the way your eyes warm up when you look at me...”  
“They do?”  
“They do. I also love the way they soften and you get that pucker between your brows when you're worried about me.”  
“They don't pucker!”  
“They do. I love how you sometimes look away, then look back when you're trying to make a point or talk about mushy stuff...”  
“Now you're just making it up..”  
“Am not. I love how you scrunch up your nose when you're about to say something sarcastic.”  
“Now I know you're making it up...”  
Jamie ignored him and carried on. “I love how your eyes lose focus when you're delving into that brain of yours, then a second later you're so focused on the problem you forget everything around you.”  
Mitch let his bottom lip poke out a little, nodding in agreement. “I do that.”  
Jamie let a quiet grow between them. Mitch fidgetted, tapping the steering wheel and bouncing his leg. Eventually, he had to say something.   
“So. That's it?”  
Jamie grinned at him. “Yeah. That's it.” She waited a few moments, then spoke again.  
“Making up your own list?” she asked.  
“Yeah. For later,” he replied.

X-x-x-x-x

The eye-ninety flowed beyond Spokane into open country, heather and grass dotted with trees, both solitary and in a thicket. Once more their only obstacle was grass trying to grow over the road, and tall weeds colonizing the center strip. The occasional wreck or glimpse of a distant lake enlivened the view, but for most, they were glad for the lack of drama. The dry, easy conditions would make for a fast trip, making the goal of arriving in Vancouver well before dark, a likelihood.

Soon even the trees thinned out, leaving behind a scrubby landscape with low or no hills to break up the horizon. They traveled the featureless expanse under a clear bowl of blue sky, the contrast with the previous day quite profound. It also allowed them to make very good time. 

They successfully crossed both arms of Moses Lake, at Westlake, the suburban houses a welcome change to endless grasslands and crop circles. Just beyond the town, they saw row upon row of red and white tarps covering a mountain of hay bales. Some of the tarps were shredded by wind and weather, their bales tumbled and scattered, but most were still intact, sheltering their precious feed for cattle that no longer existed. 

In the middle of nowhere they came across the stately march of huge pylons, four or five abreast, crossing their path, the wires carrying nothing to nowhere, one or two cables severed and laying on the ground like immense anacondas. They paused briefly to clear one off the interstate, then carried on, leaving the metal structures to act as silent sentinels over an empty landscape. 

While bypassing the settlement of George, they saw another downed water tower, the metal legs broken, the rounded reservoir split open and empty. A little further on the road started to rise into the hills that overlooked the Columbia River. When the road reached the peak of the hills they could see the wide river below, looking more like a lake, before the geology of the land concealed it from view. The downhill run on the other side afforded them a clear view of the bridge they had to cross as well as the water stretching off into the distance. The approach to the steel expanse looked good, the metal rusted, as you'd expect, but there were no gaps or breaks in the spans. The rhythmic clatter as they trundled over, admiring the views on either side, was a counterpoint to the wind buffeting them.

Outside Vantage they encountered a vast field of wind turbines, hundreds standing tall, some even still turning, the enormous blades generating electricity for no one to use. Others had fallen, crumpled on the red dirt, blades like broken dragonfly wings. As the miles passed and the white walkers stayed with them, they took on the aspect of crosses, with some blades fixed in place, a colossal graveyard for victims of some horrible war among the Gods. They loomed on each ridge and rise, visible for miles. At the top of another rise, the field abruptly ended, the white towers giving way to the true giants, high tension pylons. Two by two, this branch of the electricity network crossed the hills with giant strides, soon matched by more of a simpler design on the other side of the highway until they converged on a grey substation set back from the road.

Up ahead was an ornate metal railway trestle overbridge, no longer used for trains, but left to decorate the indifferent landscape and provide a safe bridge for animals to cross the interstate easily.   
It was heavily decayed with some bracing already fallen to the ground, but not enough to destabilize the whole structure. Mitch held his breath as they thundered under it and passed unscathed. 

Jamie, as did anyone in the trucks with a pair of binoculars, had been keeping a close watch on their surroundings, trying to spot any animal or hybrid activity along the way. So far she'd drawn a blank, or the animals were so well camouflaged they were invisible. She knew that the land was a mess of folded, shallow hills with dips and gullies you could probably hide any number of animals or people among if you wanted to, but it didn't stop her looking. 

x-x-x-x-x-x

In the distance, they could the rise of dark hills, the start of the pass through the Cascades, the east coast waiting for them on the other side. Avoiding Ellensburg, they passed by a small solar generating park, the black panels flattened and broken. Further on they crossed the Yakima river on a bridge that was warped, the surface degraded, but they had no choice. They crossed one at a time, the uneven surface making the driver's teeth rattle. They all stopped to watch the tanker cross, then the two heavily laden flatbed trucks. Mitch took the opportunity to scramble down to the river and take some samples, checking the water for spore contamination. Overhead he could hear the big trucks making their slow progress across the damaged bridge. As he reached down to submerge the vial to fill it, something leaped out of the water and landed on his right hand. Thinking it nothing more than a droplet of water he brushed it off, sealed the container and started back up the slope to the roadway. Halfway up he staggered slightly but kept on going. When he reached the road edge he swayed, his vision starting to go blurry. He took a step, tottered, took another and simply crumpled at the knees before falling on his side, the world gone horribly dark all of a sudden. He faintly heard his name called and tried to respond but his tongue felt thick and stiff, unwilling to form words. Hands seemed to be grabbing him, someone pushing on his chest as if lifting and dropping a rock on him. His ears were the last to give out, Jamie's voice the last he heard before a roaring wind whisked him away into oblivion. 

“I don't know. He went down to take samples, as he does. He wasn't gone more than a minute or two,” Jamie explained, her voice rising. “The only bits of him exposed are his hands and face, could it have been a snake?”  
Doctor Scofield was examining Mitch, checking his face, neck, and scalp, then turning to his hands. “Here. There's a red mark, a blister..”  
Jamie looked. “That wasn't there this morning, or when we were driving, I would have noticed.”   
Ally lifted Mitch's eyelids, noting the partially dilated pupils. She leaned down to check his breathing.   
“His breathing is shallow and he has an erratic heartbeat. If it was a snake, we need to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible. They'll have supplies of anti-venom.”  
Captain Stevens approached and crouched down to her level. “Do we know what bit him?”  
Jamie shook her head, swiping at her eyes to stop them watering. Ally looked up at the Captain.  
“I don't think it's a bite, as such. There's only one puncture site and it's blistered. Whatever it was it hit him hard and fast. I need to get him on a ventilator and try and find out what did this.”  
“All right. We're just past Ellensburg and they should have a hospital there. This is what I propose. We leave the big trucks here, just take the smaller vehicles – the three Humvee's and your truck, and return to the city.”  
Both Jamie and Doctor Scofield nodded.   
“I'll go and unhitch the trailer..” Jamie started to say but the Captain waved her off.  
“Let one of my men do that, you stay here with Mitch.”  
Jamie was grateful for his understanding, picking up Mitch's undamaged hand to hold in her own.   
Soon the Captain returned accompanied by several of the IADG soldiers with a makeshift stretcher, lifting Mitch on to it and carrying him to the Unimog. There they placed him on the bed inside, Jamie climbing in to be with him, along with Ally. Captain Stevens would be their driver. 

The ride back to the city of Ellensburg was done as quickly as possible, the lead car following the signs to the Kittitas Valley General hospital, the small convoy dodging around rusting cars and down streetlights, running over rubbish and weeds in equal quantities. They pulled up to the main entrance, the Unimog right by the door. Glass was scattered over the ground from the smashed swing doors, but that didn't stop two of the soldiers going inside to find a gurney. Captain Stevens opened the back of the Unimog as his men returned, the three of them lifting Mitch onto the mobile bed, Ally and Jamie in attendance.   
“Follow the signs for the ER, we'll get him stable then I can go find the pharmacy, and check his blood work.” Ally instructed, the men holding back the doors as they pushed the gurney through. Jamie briefly flashed back to their time in the hospital in Africa.  
“We need to check, there could be hybrids here!”  
Captain Stevens reassured her. “My men are doing that right now. Don't worry.” He sent her a smile, but she couldn't return it. Mitch's hand felt clammy and cold. Ally was frowning down at her patient, noting his color.  
“He needs oxygen.”  
They rushed through the doors of the emergency department and pushed the gurney into the closest cubicle. Ally grabbed an oxygen mask and attached it to the line coming out of the wall after testing that it was still working. She then fitted it over Mitch's face, Jamie removing his glasses and putting them in her pocket for safe keeping.  
“There's no power,” Ally muttered, grabbing a stethoscope to listen to her patient's heart.   
“Don't worry, Doc, we'll have the power on as quickly as possible.” Captain Stevens waved to one of the men, giving him a list of instructions, sending the man off at a run. “Turner is one of our engineers. Every hospital has a backup generator in case of emergency. He'll get the one here running as soon as possible.”  
“Good,” Ally retorted tersely. She found a blood pressure cuff. “Help me get his jacket and shirt off.” With Stevens supporting Mitch, the two women stripped the unconscious man of his clothes down to his boxers, then covered him in several blankets taken from other beds.   
“He still feels so cold,” Jamie observed, brushing the hair off his forehead. She was back holding his left hand, clutching it tightly despite the lack of response.   
Ally folded the cuff around her patient's arm, then held the stethoscope against the elbow pulse point and started to pump up the cuff, keeping an eye on the blood pressure meter at the same time. After it was fully inflated she started to let it down, watching the gage and listening to the pulse. Eventually, she let the cuff all the way down and took it off.   
“Okay. Well, his blood pressure is way down and his pulse is thready.”  
“Can't we just find some antivenom for him?” Captain Stevens asked.   
Ally used the stethoscope to listen to Mitch's chest. “We don't know it was a snake. There aren't that many snakes that have venom that work that quickly, surprisingly. His heart is beating unevenly.”  
She checked his eyes again, the pupils now fully dilated so there was nothing to see but black.  
“Dammit, what is this?” she checked the oxygen flow and raised it. “I need to get him on fluids.”  
She left the cubicle, Jamie meeting Stevens concerned gaze.   
“He can't die, he just can't,” Jamie whispered.   
“The Doc will sort this out, don't you worry, miss.”  
The lights overhead suddenly flickered into life, Jamie closing her eyes briefly in gratitude. Ally bustled back, pushing a machine which she proceeded to hook Mitch up to. Pulling back the blanket covering her patient's chest she paused, taking in the multiple scars, remnants of the deep lacerations he'd suffered. Then she shook her head slightly and started to place heart monitor stickers in strategic places.   
“Plug this in for me,” she handed the lead to Stevens who plugged it in.   
Ally pushed some buttons and the machine started to spit out paper with a record of her patient's arrhythmia. “I'm going to start him on a cause of CroFab, that's antivenom. I can't be sure, but he's presenting as suffering from a Hemotoxic venom which affects the heart and cardiovascular system. We need to watch him closely for any breathing difficulties or seizures.”  
Jamie gave a short laugh. “That's easy, I'm not going anywhere.”  
“I'll also need to draw blood and insert a catheter.” Ally continued.   
“I can do the catheter while you do what you need to do in the lab with his blood.”  
“You can?” Ally queried, looking surprised.   
“I had to look after Mitch just recently, he was suffering from extreme malnutrition and required absolute bed rest, hence a catheter. I know what I'm doing.”  
Ally pursed her lips but nodded. “Alright. You get to insert the catheter and set up the bag for collection. I'll get the blood to the lab and see what it tells me.”  
“If you don't need me, I'll go check on my men. See what's happening out there, and what we need to do if we're staying the night.” His departure from the cubicle went unacknowledged as the two women worked to remove the heart monitor equipment, including the sticky pads all over Mitch's pulse points, from his feet to his chest. Jamie stayed while Ally went to fetch the necessary tubing and equipment for the catheter, and syringes to take blood.   
“I can't believe we're back in this situation again. I pulled you back last time, and I'm damned if I don't do the same again this time. Are you listening, Mitch Morgan? Don't you pull this shit on me again. We have a planet to save and we can't do that without you.”

x-x-x-x-x-x


	14. Band's Back Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as before...yadayadayada

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really to add, other than I'm not Canadian, so any and all mistakes to do with that country and its people are entirely my own. Oh, and thank you to all those that comment or leave kudos, you are all lovely.

x-x-x-x

Jamie just wanted the traveling to be over. 

They had stayed at the hospital only as long as it took to get Mitch into a state where they could move him safely back to the Unimog. Doctor Scofield had done all she could, done every test within the limits of her knowledge and equipment available, recorded every result and done everything any reasonable person could expect, given their circumstances. 

Despite all this, Mitch lay inert and unresponsive in the back on the Unimog.

Someone else was driving their truck, she didn't care who. She just wanted them to get to Vancouver and their team, to get Mitch seen by people who might just know what was affecting him, what was killing him. She shook her head, telling herself there was time, that he wasn't going to die on her watch, that they were doing all they could. She told herself this but had a hard time believing it. 

X-x-x-x

They were barely halfway through their journey, entering the pass through the Cascades. After leaving the flatlands, the dreaded pine trees made an unwelcome comeback, heralding the return to the mountains and steep hills.   
Jamie didn't groan when the first pine trees appeared, she was curled up next to Mitch, pressed against his side to keep him warm, and to reassure herself his heart was still beating. He was hooked up to a solution of CroFab through an intravenous drip in his left wrist, his right hand bandaged because of whatever had left its teeth or barb in him. Ally had taken a biopsy of the site but had no idea what had caused it, or why he'd reacted as he did. Fortunately, his major organs were still functioning with no sign of paralysis or evidence of a cytotoxic venom with accompanying tissue loss around the small wound. There was no swelling or obvious spreading of whatever had been injected into him, no sting or venom sac left behind like you would expect from a bee or wasp. His blood pressure was down, heart beat a little erratic and his pupils dilated. The only other symptoms were his body temperature that was lower than normal, and he wouldn't wake up. 

The truck rattled over something and jogged her from a light doze. Startled that she'd fallen asleep at all, she quickly checked that Mitch was still breathing, his heart still beating, that the catheter was doing its job, and his body not so cold as it had been before. She forced herself to have something drink and eat, catching up on their progress and what was happening outside by checking her tablet for the camera view, fore, and aft. 

X-x-x-x-x

The road and weather conditions were working in their favor, the foothills, with their trees growing down to the roads edge, and distant peaks looking dark and forbidding beyond the treetops, causing few if any stops as they plowed on through. Rockfalls became the most common hazard they had to detour around, none of them big enough to warrant getting the dozer and backhoe down off their flatbeds.   
Keechelus Lake opened up the view to the left, while the road experienced a stretch of abandoned roadworks on the right, where the long-ago workers had been building a retaining wall to inhibit further rockslides. Even though half finished, the engineering worked, keeping back the falling debris from covering the highway.

They crossed the summit of Snoqualmie, the mountains now rising up to show off their jagged and formidable peaks. Clouds were starting to form on the higher elevations, shrouding the top peaks and ridges, but still, the rain stayed away. Mile after mile of heavily wooded slopes slipped behind them, the convoy keeping a steady speed, everyone wanting to reach their goal, not least for the man in a coma. Their experience at the motel had spooked everyone, the whole event likely to haunt their nightmares for weeks to come. They certainly did not want to repeat it. 

They were now out of the Cascades and seeing more highway signs counting down the miles to Seattle. The ubiquitous pines were giving way to deciduous cover, the two-lane expanded to a three-lane when they bypassed North Bend. Further on, all features of the landscape were impossible to see behind the towering hedge created by a mixture of overgrowth, deciduous and pine, some fallen over, while others encroached onto the highway with low branches. Before many more miles were eaten up the interstate expanded once more into four lanes, to accommodate what would have been a busy approach to Seattle's outer suburbs.

Soon enough they were trundling through the outskirts of Seattle, corporate buildings climbing on top of each other, blinded, with most of their reflective windows broken. Signage with names like Hyatt and Xerox advertising their business status, destroyed by successive storms, abandoned like the city.

X-x-x-x-x

The Unimog rolled to a stop, Jamie sitting up and approaching the hatchway giving access into the cab.  
“Where are we?” she asked. The man driving turned and smiled.  
“Seattle, well actually we bypassed the city center, and now taking the northbound, but the Captain's decided to take a break. I know I could use the time to er....well, stretch my legs.”  
Jamie nodded. “Good idea,” she replied, despite feeling no real inclination to do the same herself.   
Telling herself it would do her good, She waited to hear the drivers door open and shut, then the passenger as the soldiers left the truck to go about their business. She pushed open the back of the truck to let in air and light, the sun not reaching so far in, to blind either her or the comatose man beside her.  
Doctor Scofield appeared. “Hi. How are things back here?”  
She didn't wait for Jamie's reply, just started doing a series of external checks. Jamie had already changed the infusion bag, so she took Mitch's blood pressure and lifted his eyelids – finding his pupils still black. She checked the chart Jamie was keeping for the catheter bag to measure fluid output, and finally listened to his heart and lungs. While she was doing all that, Jamie left the truck to stretch and walk about, tilting her head up to soak in the warmth of the sun. Mitch's unnatural stillness and cool skin were unsettling and she welcomed the heat of the blue-sky day.  
The convoy was parked nose to tail on the interstate, so she hopped over the concrete barrier for some privacy to relieve herself. Ally was waiting for her when she returned.  
“Any change?” Jamie asked.  
The doctor shook her head. “Same as Ellensburg. That in itself tells us something. I don't think this was in any way a snake bite. Whatever left that mark on his hand injected him with something, but it wasn't snake venom.”  
“Spider?” Jamie suggested.  
Ally shook her head. “No, that would have caused localized swelling and redness. All we had to go on was a blister and a single pinprick. Apart from being actually injected by a needle with something, which is impossible, I can't begin to imagine what caused him to go into anaphylactic shock like this, from such a small wound.”  
Jamie shrugged. “Let's hope someone at Vancouver will know what it is.”  
Ally rubbed her arm in sympathy. “Not far to go now.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

With so few delays, it had taken them four hours to get to Ellensburg from Spokane, two hours to stabilize Mitch, and another three hours to reach Seattle. It was late afternoon and they still had to cross the border into Canada and reach the Vancouver airport, another couple of hours away, barring any delays.   
“Then we'll get you sorted out, get you well again,” Jamie whispered, stroking the hair off his forehead. His skin seemed clammy, so she went through her supplies and found a number of soft cloths, using bottled water to moisten it before gently giving him a wash. She was careful not to disturb the flow of oxygen, wiping under the mask before replacing it over his nose and mouth. She checked the bottle's contents, frowning at the gage.  
“We'll need to change that for you soon,” she murmured, more to herself than her lover.   
Jamie continued with the sponge bath, smoothing over his collarbone, noting how much more prominent it was, like the line of his jaw. “Still not eating enough,” she chided, lifting his right arm to lay it on a towel before sponging that down, careful not to disturb the dressing on his hand.   
As if sensing that something had changed, she stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Mitch's face. His eyes were open, still dilated to the foolest extent but open and looking in her direction.  
Moving slowly, so as not to startle him, she positioned herself more fully into his visual range. His eyes moved as well, tracking her as she settled in beside him.   
“Hey,” she murmured. “Can you hear me? If you can't nod your head, just blink once for yes.”  
She waited and was rewarded with a very slow, single blink. She smiled broadly down at him, stroking the back of her fingers down his cheek, below the elastic holding the oxygen mask on.   
“Can you feel this?”  
Again her patience was rewarded with another slow droop of his eyelids, but when he tried to open his eyes he only succeeded to half-mast, as if the sheer effort of two blinks had exhausted him.  
“Don't worry, I don't have any more questions for you. Things are going to look a bit strange because your pupils are very dilated, for some reason. If it's more comfortable to have them closed, then let them close.” She waited, but he kept his eyes half open.  
“We're only a couple of hours away from Vancouver, Mitch. We'll be back with our friends before the sun sets. They'll never believe how long it took us to get there, or what we had to go through.”  
She chuckled. “You will certainly keep everyone busy with all the samples we're carrying. Until we figure out what's happened, you might have to surrender your crown as 'King of the Lab' to someone else, for a short time.”  
She watched as he struggled to pull his expressive eyebrows together in a frown. It was a faint effort and he had to let the muscles relax almost at once, but it made her more hopeful for his recovery. “You'll be able to see Clementine and little Sam, they'll be so pleased to see you again.”  
She saw him try to frown again. “Alright...us. They'll be pleased to see us.”  
Instantly the frown relaxed and she knew she'd interpreted the movement correctly. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, the skin still cool, but no longer clammy. His eyes had closed fully, dark lashes fanning out over the smudged circles under his eyes.   
She waited but his eyes didn't open again.  
“That's okay, we can chat later, maybe then we'll be in Vancouver and they'll know what all this is about.”

x-x-x-x-x

Getting out of Seattle was as easy as driving in, the interstate screened off from the city and suburbs by high concrete walls or densely packed hedges, the incidents of abandoned vehicles and downed trees avoided by using the other lanes. With sometimes five to choose from, it barely slowed them down. The eye-ninety became the eye four-oh-five, which in turn became the eye-five, all of them heading steadily north to the border.   
When they crossed the Snohomish River bridge the confining concrete walls gave way to expansive views of north Seattle, beyond that the land and road ran flat and straight with several river crossings, but no pine trees. The bridge over the Skagit River was a concrete support, metal superstructure design, the first they'd crossed like that. On reaching the other side they found the expansion strip was half a foot wider, well beyond normal, but they all crossed the gap with only mild issues with their vehicle's suspension.

In the Unimog the jolt was loud and violent, Jamie bracing herself against the wall, while Mitch was shaken about, the movement sufficient to rouse him again. Seeing his eyes open, Jamie placed herself in his line of sight.   
“Hey. Nice to see you back with me. Maybe we can try to keep awake a little longer?”  
To her delight, he managed a credible blink, her brilliant smile his reward.  
“And can you feel this?” she ran a single finger down his arm from shoulder to elbow.  
He blinked once again.  
“That's great. We're still on the road, but not far to go now. Would you like some water?”  
His single blink had her lifting the oxygen mask and placing a straw against his lips.   
“You need to open your mouth, Mitch.”  
Never taking his gaze from hers, he did as instructed and she slipped the end of the straw between his lips. When he did nothing, she encouraged him again.  
“You need to suck the water into your mouth. Just a little suction.” She watched the water slowly climb the straw and go past his lips, his throat working as he swallowed the cool liquid. After a few moments of suction, he stopped, Jamie withdrawing the straw.  
“Had enough?”  
He blinked, just the once, this time keeping his eyes open and still fixed on her.   
“Feel you can stay awake a bit longer?”  
Blink.  
“You can keep me company then.”  
Blink.  
She moved, and this time not just his eyes followed her, but his head moved as well. Inside, Jamie was screaming with joy, outside she settled herself to keep him company.  
“Now we have a way to communicate, I'm going to see how much you remember. Okay?”  
Blink.  
“Okay. We had stopped because a bridge was not very safe, so we decided to go over it one at a time. Do you remember that?”  
She waited and eventually, he blinked.  
“Good. While we waited, you wanted to get a sample of water from the river below the bridge. Do you remember doing that?”  
Blink.  
“You're doing so well. Um...something landed or fell onto your right hand. Do you remember that?”  
She waited but he didn't blink.  
“Hm. I'll take that as a no. Do you remember climbing the river bank back to the road?”  
Blink.  
“Do you remember you collapsed onto the road?”  
Blink.  
“Wow. Whatever this is, hasn't made you suffer any memory loss, that's good.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead, laying her cheek against it afterward. “That's so good, that you remember all that.”  
The Unimog ran over something and they were jostled, Jamie lifting her face to look towards the cab hatchway. While her attention was diverted, Mitch closed his eyes, then opened them a second later. This time the pupils were contracting until they were no more than a pinprick, the reverse of his previous state. At the same time, he tried to lift his right hand, barely getting it off the covers before it fell back with a thump. He grimaced behind the oxygen mask, his eyes squeezed shut. Jamie was turning back to look at him so he forced himself to relax, his head naturally falling to the side as if he'd fallen asleep again.   
He felt her lips cool against his skin, then they were gone and he felt an irrational rage build up inside him, his veins throbbing in time with his suddenly increased heart rate. A quickly as the emotion flared, it died away leaving him drained and limp, unable even to open his eyes. Exhausted, he let the ever-present rushing of the wind carry him into oblivion.

X-x-x-x-x

They were on the final run, an hour out from Vancouver. They'd passed through cloud-shrouded hills and through flat, open countryside. Now, outside of Bellingham, they were once again crossing a metal framed bridge. A little further on, at Custer, they passed under a number of high tension power lines, carried five abreast by familiar giant pylons, the sight a friendly reminder of how far they'd traveled. 

They were negotiating the route through Blaine when the sea appeared on their left, a shining expanse of water all the way to the horizon, a breathtaking sight that carried them over the border into Canada and past the peace gate, the Canadian maple flying, ragged but proud off the top of the white monument. 

One of the soldiers in the cab poked his head through.  
“We're over the border, we in Canada!”  
Jamie wanted to cry. It had taken so long, but now they were nearly there. She turned to tell Mitch, regardless of whether he was still asleep, instead finding him wide awake, his liquid brown eyes fixed on her face.  
“Oh, my God, Mitch? Did you hear what he said? We just crossed the border into Canada. Isn't that fantastic?”  
Her feeling of euphoria dimmed a little when he didn't blink. She then noticed that his pupils were no longer dilated, his stare not leaving her face.  
“Your eyes are back to normal, that's wonderful.” Her eyes were drawn to the oxygen mask that was fogging repeatedly in response to Mitch's quickened breathing.   
“Mitch?   
Again he didn't blink, but her attention was drawn to his arm down to his hand. His fist was clenched, the muscles in his arm standing out in sharp relief, tense as if in a spasm. Even as she watched his arm seemed to vibrate with the force he was applying to his muscles.   
She glanced up at his face, noting that his neck tendons were similarly tensed, standing out like cords. His lips were pulled back from his teeth, under the oxygen mask, and his eyes were no longer a warm brown but something she'd not seen since Mr. Duncan had been banished. His eyes hated her with a ferocity that was almost tangible.   
“Mitch, you need to calm down, try and breath slowly...please, you need to relax...” she tried talking to him soothingly, her hand reaching out to smooth over his hair, but he made a sudden movement and the click of his teeth coming together made her snatch her hand back.   
He was still too weak to do much of anything, other than conveying his irrational rage with eyes and muscles, but at his rate of recovery he might soon be able to attempt to do her harm, and there was no way she could secure him, not in the back of the truck.   
She moved away from him until her back hit the wall of the truck. It had an extraordinary effect on the man in front of her. He visibly relaxed, his jaw unclenching and his fist slowly unfurling, the muscles in his arm no longer bulging under the skin. His teeth were no longer visible behind drawn back lips and his head had flopped to the side, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling at a more normal rate. 

X-x-x-x-x

Beyond the walls of the Unimog and the drama playing out inside, the trucks all picked a different a different lane to drive through when passing the official border checkpoint. Several of the drivers tooted their horns before falling back into line to finish the journey.

The roads and bridges in Canada were as much, if not more so, in excellent condition, only the encroachment of vegetation at the edges of the roads any hazard to overcome. The land around them was low and swampy, a contrast to what they'd come to expect. Jamie stared out through the windscreen as they skated the edge of Boundary Bay, the smell of brine on the air coming through the driver's side window. She glanced back at Mitch, but he seemed to be sleeping again, his perplexing behavior causing her to chew on her bottom lip. She had thought he might have been having a seizure before, but his reaction to her moving away was too pronounced. Somehow her proximity caused an adverse reaction in him. She hoped he remained out of it until they were able to transfer him to a medical facility.

They were approaching the George Massey tunnel running under the Frazer River, the first time for them to negotiate such an obstacle, this side of the barrier. Not knowing if the tunnel was flooded or intact, they sent one of the Humvee through, who would radio back if there were any problems.   
Jamie checked on Mitch while they waited, but he was still out for the count, and she took the opportunity to consult with Doctor Scofield.  
Ally had nothing to add that she hadn't already said previously. She noted what Jamie said about Mitch's initial reaction to her, then the subsequent one – exhibiting an extreme reaction to Jamie being near.   
“Honestly, we can only try to keep him calm and hope that where we're going have the answers. I could give him a mild sedative. From what you've described his breathing and heart rate seems to be holding their own, and his eyes have come back to normal...sort of. Now we need to hand him over to more competent hands for a proper diagnosis.”  
Jamie agreed with her, so suiting words to actions, Ally injected Mitch to sedate him, the man never stirring despite his earlier activity. 

Word came back from the Humvee team that the tunnel was intact, so they started through, headlights bright in the sudden darkness. Having only two lanes to work with they had to go slow and wend their way past broken down vehicles on both sides. Navigating the obstacles and emerging back into the sunlight was a welcome relief. Alongside the highway were more rows of grape vines, a common sight since they'd first seen the sea near Surrey-Newton. In a neat uniform  
pattern, they were still unmistakeable despite years of neglect. They passed over and under numerous highway interchange, coming inexorably closer by the minute to their final destination.  
For a time the city around them disappeared behind a hedge of greenery, an effective barrier to views across the flat countryside, then they were plunged back among the buildings, multistorey hotels becoming the most prominent this close to the airport. The exited off the interstate to get onto the road that would take them to the only bridge crossing likely to be usable – the Moray swing bridge. 

When they reached the approach they could see a barricade on both sides of the river. The bridge taking traffic into the airport was a demolished wreck of twisted metal and blasted concrete, evidence, if Jamie needed it, that Mitch's theory was right on the money. They approached the landward barricade and tooted a single horn for attention. Captain Stevens, Doctor Scofield, Jamie and several soldiers exited their vehicles and walked ahead, no weapons visible.   
Up close the barricade was substantial and well made, solid and high. Despite this, a small door opened off to the side and a man appeared, dressed in khaki but showing no particular rank.  
The sun was setting and they were glad to get into the shade of the metalwork, the better to see who they were facing.   
“You picked a fine time to arrive, it's right on curfew. Another few minutes and you'd be stuck out here for the night.” The man informed them, slinging the gun over his shoulder in a casual fashion.  
“I have to ask what you might be doing here?”  
Captain Stevens handed the man an identity card. “Captain Stevens, International Animal Defense Group, I'm here with my men to escort Doctor Scofield, Jamie Cambell and Doctor Mitch Morgan to the airport. We've come from the barrier command at Butte.”  
The man whistled in appreciation of their journey. “Then let me run this by my chief. I'll be back in a tick.” The man turned his back on them and sauntered casually back to the small door and stepped back inside, behind the barricade.   
“He's a bit bloody casual!” One of the IADG soldiers muttered.   
Captain Steven's motioned with his hand to the top edge of the wall. “He has nothing to worry about from us. We've been under surveillance since we arrived and those automatic motion sensor guns would rip us to shreds in a second.”  
Jamie squinted up at the wall and noted the cunningly disguised weaponry and cameras. “Clever.”  
Minutes later the little door opened and the man returned, this time saluting smartly to the Captain and beaming at the women.   
“Welcome to Vancouver, sir...ladies. We'll just open the gate for you in a tick. If you'll stand back?”  
They did as instructed and watched as the tall construction, which wouldn't have looked out of place in a Mad Max movie, started to move, splitting in the middle and sliding away to either side, revealing how thick the walls really were, and a clear path over the swing bridge which was in the open position. The barricade extended to either side then down to the deep waters edge, leaving no way, other than to swim, for anyone or anything to get across.  
Once the gates were far enough back, the vehicles were waved through and told to proceed to the barrier arm, blocking the way forward just before the gap. Once everyone was through, the gates shut behind them, ensuring that if anything somehow got past the gate, they still had to get over the wide break in the bridge. The grinding of gears announced the return of the middle section to allow the trucks across the bridge, only to face a second barricade, built along the same design as the first, as a final safety measure for defense.   
At last, they were through the human defenses, a soldier from the troops manning the bridge, rode in the cab of the lead car, acting as a guide as they advanced further onto the airport grounds. Jamie was sitting up front of the Unimog in the passenger seat, a soldier keeping Mitch company in the back, ready to report if the patient woke up or showed signs of consciousness. Jamie chewed at her thumb, worried about Mitch, nervous about seeing their friends, uncertain of their welcome and unsettled about the future. It seemed that arriving at their destination only seemed to add more pressure to what was already a difficult situation.   
The trucks and tanker followed the lead Humvee while their guide directed them to the main airport building, the tall, blue glass building strangely devoid of any cars in front, giving the IADG convoy plenty of parking space. As they pulled up, people started to appear from the main entrance, the quaint nod to French architecture at odds with the modern frontage, and the airport tower on its flank. It wasn't yet full dark, the sun still a sliver above the horizon, but lights were starting to come on in the building and all around them.   
The Unimog had been parked, and Jamie sat staring through the windscreen, hardly believing they were really in Vancouver. Then she saw a face she knew. Jumping down from the cab she ran around the front of the truck towards the person a head taller than anyone else.  
“Abe!” she called, darting between the black-clad IADG soldiers and the civilians coming out of the airport. “Abe!”  
The friendly face split into a wide grin on seeing her. “Jamie!” he opened his arms and she flew into them, the friends hugging with a fierceness that spoke volumes.   
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” Jame choked out, the tears she been desperately trying to suppress overwhelming her best efforts. Abe looked down at the top of her head in concern, patting her back while she sobbed openly against his jacket. After a few moment, she pulled back and tried to mop up the mess, accepting the hankie Abe handed her to help.   
“We got the message from Butte command center, but we expected you yesterday.”  
Jamie laughed, still mopping at her eyes. “You have no idea how bad it is on the roads, the first day was a nightmare, and today...” she stopped, drawing in a shaky breath. “Oh, Abe. It's Mitch.”  
Jamie pulled him over to their truck, opening the back and climbing up into it. Abe followed, forced to kneel down due to his height. He peered at Mitch in the uncertain light, noting the drip, catheter bag, and oxygen mask.   
“What happened to him?” Abe asked, his voice pitched so as not to wake the sleeper.   
“We honestly don't know. Is there some sort of hospital in the building, somewhere we can get help for him?”  
Abe nodded. “Probably the best hospital you could possibly imagine. Stay here, I'll get something organized.” Abe left the back of the truck, shouting at someone to find a gurney to transport a patient. His request was carried out in a speedy fashion, Mitch quickly transferred to a hospital bed, along with his attached paraphernalia, and wheeled into the airport. Jamie almost had to job to keep up with the orderlies and Abe. She didn't have time to take in the interior of the building, her sole focus on the man she loved, and getting him help. There seemed to be as many people in the building as you'd expect when it was still an international transport hub, none of them paying attention to the small cavalcade wending its way further into the center of activity. Before long, they were entering a space that screamed of a hospital, from latex glove dispensers on every wall, to pump hand wash bottles in brackets for easy access and rooms leading off behind swing doors along the corridor they were racing down.   
The orderlies pushed the bed into a room lined with everything imaginable, the tank disconnected so that the oxygen could be supplied directly from a clean line. The infusion bag was hung off a metal hook contraption that was slotted into the head of the bed. The catheter bag was position at the base of the bed on another purpose placed hanger, and before you could blink, a monitor was attached to several parts of his body including head, heart, lungs, and one to monitor his core temperature. The orderlies had been swapped out for a medical team, who took off everything that had been done to him and renewed them. The bandage on his right hand was changed, the intravenous line exchanged for another, even the oxygen mask replaced with a new one. His weight was taken by the bed itself, a sensor in the mattress, his height the same way. Copious notes and recording of readings were taken, and questions asked of Jamie as to what had been done and what had happened. She tried to answer as fully as she could, but her head was spinning. Large hands gently steered her to a chair and she sat down rather suddenly.   
“Thanks.”  
“You looked like you were about to fall down,” Abe chided her. “When did you last eat or have something to drink?”  
Jamie shook her head. “I'm not entirely sure. What time is it?”  
Abe chuffed and gave her a look. “Time to see about caring for you. Mitch is in good hands...”  
Ally appeared at that moment and zeroed in on the head of the team. “I have all the notes from when we first admitted him back in Ellensburg. I also have blood, urine, and biopsy for analysis.”  
“Great. We need all of that.”   
The two doctors headed out of the room, already talking about results and tests, and Jamie found herself pulled up and steered out of the room as well, her glance back at the bed showing a number of medics working on Mitch.   
Abe kept a firm arm around her waist and wouldn't release her until they were seated at a table, in an informal eating area with huge windows, that looked out onto the concourse where several planes sat idle.  
“I'll be back in a moment, stay here,” he instructed, as if to a child.   
Jamie didn't care, she just stared out the window, the night drawing in even as she watched. Beyond the ring of lights being used by the airport, and those illuminating the runways beyond, there weren't any lights on the horizon where she knew there had formerly been a thriving metropolitan area of Vancouver city, the population in the region of nearly three million souls.   
Abe quickly returned with a tray piled high with morsels to tempt her appetite. Jamie looked at the loaded tray and gulped.   
“I don't have any money...” she stammered to a halt when Abe laughed.   
“Jamie, money has no value here, there are lots of different eateries available at all hours, so we eat when we are hungry, and ask for what we need when we need it.”  
“Oh. You know I can't possibly eat all this myself?” she indicated the overloaded tray.   
“I didn't imagine you would. You pick what you fancy, and I'll happily have what's left.”  
He watched her with a twinkle in his eye as she picked up a few items and put them in front of her.  
“No wonder you are as tiny as a Dik Dik...you don't eat enough to support a sparrow.”  
Jamie sent him a fulminating look, but quickly smiled when he chuckled.  
True to his word, Abe finished off the rest of the tray, leaving Jamie to consume her own choices without further comment. Eventually, she pushed back from the table.  
“No good, I can't eat another bite.”  
“That is good. Now you can tell me what happened to Mitch, and your adventures getting here.”  
Jamie suddenly sat upright. “Oh...Abe, the water, there's something in the water...everywhere.. it's contaminated!”  
Abe waved his hand to make her relax. “We know. A hybrid spore has infected the freshwater source of the entire west coast. All the water for here comes from a desalination plant, so don't worry.”  
Jamie relaxed into her seat and dropped her head into her hands. “Thank goodness....I was so worried you'd walked into a disaster.....” her head suddenly shot up. “Sam...the baby, how is he? How is Clem? Dariela? Jackson? And Tessa? I can't believe I've only just remembered to ask about them!”  
“Relax, they know you and Mitch have arrived, central communications will have notified them.”  
“Oh, okay.” she relaxed for a moment then suddenly sat up again. “Abe, it's Mitch, he sort of woke up on the way here, but he reacted really badly when I was close to him, he seemed to be enraged, or something like that. Ally had to sedate him, I should have warned the nurses!”  
Abe once again waved her back into her seat. “You saw your doctor go off with the senior attending physician, they will already have discussed what happened and what was done.”  
“Of course.” Jamie raised a hand to her head. “I should have realized.”  
Abe tutted then rose to his feet, leaving the tray and the debris of their meal on the table.   
“Come. Let us go and see the doctors and find out what they have planned for Mitch.”  
Jamie followed him back to the ER, noting that they had another patient to attend to, a man with a nasty gash on his arm. When they reached the room where they'd left Mitch, they entered only to find the bed empty.  
“They must have moved him, or are doing further tests. You sit here and I'll go and find out.”  
Jamie nodded, suddenly weary of traipsing about, and sat down beside the bed. She reached out a hand, feeling the faint warmth left behind by Mitch on the bottom sheet. On an impulse she laid her head on the bed, wanting to be close to him, her hand resting in the indent left by his body.   
In the quiet of the ER, on a full stomach and safe at last, she slipped into sleep resting her head on the mattress, her bottom still sunk in the cradle of the chair.   
A nurse, who had already peeked into the room, waylaid Abe and told him. He asked the nurse to let him know when she awoke, then turned and walked back the way he came. 

x-x-x-x


	15. It's All About The Hybrids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> same as ever.......*not mine, not making a penny*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing what you can get done in the wee small hours. Some may be disturbed by the direction I'm taking with this story, also with playing fast and loose with some well-liked characters, but trust me, it's all for a good cause. Still a way to go yet.

The reunion between Jamie and the rest of the team was both heartfelt, and bittersweet. They met in, what she supposed, was a reception room, still somewhere in the airport terminal with comfortable seating and a view out to the runways. 

She had only slept for an hour or so, glad to stretch after sitting in the chair for that long. A nurse paged Abe who appeared and said he was taking her to meet the others. She asked after Mitch, but Abe waved off her question with something about Mitch being given a full workup, even a CT scan which would all take time. Abe assured her that he would be paged once Mitch was comfortably settled in his own room. Trusting in him, Jamie let go of her worry and looked forward to seeing everyone again.

“Jamie!” Clem saw her first and called out her name, baby Sam in her arms. Jamie smiled broadly to see the infant again, Clem happily handing him over to her when they were close enough.  
Dariela and Tessa moved closer, the women cooing over the baby while the men stood back and watched with matching indulgent smiles.   
Jamie stared down into the child's face and marvelled at how he'd changed in just the month they'd been apart. His little face had filled out, his ears, fingers, and nose all perfectly in their place, and soft as only baby skin can be. His eyes were still an indeterminate shade of dark blue, and she wondered if they'd change to brown, like Mitch's. She found herself rocking slightly on her heels and when called on it by Clem, blushed.  
“Don't worry, it seems to be an automatic reaction to holding a baby, you just start rocking,” Dariella laughingly told her. “I used to find myself still doing it long after Isaac was grown.” She shrugged as the other joined in, laughing with her.  
Jamie held him for a few precious moment, then handed him back, her eyes stinging and her throat thick with a lump even as she put some distance between herself and little Sam.   
She turned to Jackson, aware that their parting hadn't been particularly warm. At the time emotions had been high, exacerbated by her shock over Logan, and double-shocked by Jackson doing exactly as his sister demanded, as well as wrecking her plane. They eyed each other warily, then Jackson dropped his rigid stance and held out his hand.  
“Peace?”  
Jamie nodded and held out her own hand, only to find herself engulfed in a hug instead. When he put her away, he kept his hands curled around her shoulders and looked into her face. “I'm sorry about your friend, Logan, I truly am.”  
Jamie swallowed. “I know you are. Any loss of life is horrible. I'm so glad you all got here safely.” She looked around at the others, breaking Jackson's hold on her. “How did you get to fly here?”  
Everyone found a chair to sit in, preparing to tell their story, as well as listen to her's.  
Abe took up the narrative of their flight from the Boulder Command center in pursuit of Abigail and the search for baby Sam. Tessa and Dariela interjected now and again, adding details when Abe left something out. Jamie heard of their not catching Abigail, of finding the baby, of heading to Omaha and their tense cat and mouse with Abigail's henchmen, their side trip to Silver City and eventual road trip north to Canada. How, once they made contact with the appropriate officialdom, and baby Sam and his importance were made clear, a transport plane was put at their disposal and several uncomfortable hours later they landed at Vancouver airport.  
Compared to Jamie and Mitch's protracted travels, it had taken them no time at all to reach a safe haven.   
“What happened to you and Mitch?” Tessa asked, having also made her peace with Jamie, despite holding a gun on her when Jamie threatened Jackson.  
Jamie related an abbreviated version of events, but the others kept going back and asking what had happened when she tried to gloss over their many adventures. At some stage, Abe ordered in coffees for everyone except Clem, who was breastfeeding. After a brief break Jamie continued, telling of their time in Watertown, of crossing Montana, meeting Doctor Scofield, arriving at Butte, trekking across three states and eventually reaching Vancouver. She left out quite a bit, but it was sufficient to satisfy her friend's curiosity – for now. There was so much more to tell, but it was getting late and she wanted to find out what was happening with Mitch.   
Abe deflected her by suggesting she take a look at her new quarters. He also told her that the Unimog and trailer had been emptied of their contents, the samples disseminated to various departments for processing and analysis, their personal items conveyed to said quarters.  
Jamie was taken aback at such high handedness, but swallowed down her irritation and accepted the offer to see what sort of living arrangement had been organized.

Abe rested his arm across her shoulders, and steered her down a long corridor, explaining as he went.   
“There is some accommodation in this building, and in fact in every building, housing researchers, workers, maintenance staff, you name it. Our team is all housed in this wing, among some of the technical staff, including science and medical. Here we go.” He stopped in front of a door and lifted a key card from a pocket, then swiping it through the reader. The door opened. He handed her the card.  
“It's not hugely spacious, but you should have enough room to make it comfortable.” He stood back to allow her to go in first, as well as see what he meant.   
The apartment was narrow, like a hotel room, but had everything you'd want with a separate bathroom, small kitchenette attached to the sitting room placed in front of a trademark floor-to-ceiling window, and a small bedroom off to the side. Bags and bundles she recognized as her own, littered the floor and seating. Mitch's prized mattress was even sitting on the double bed and she briefly wondered what they'd done with the original. Fresh linen was left for her to deal with, and several storage units about the apartment waited for her to fill them with her and Mitch's belongings.  
Abe cleared his throat. “Come. We'll go and see Mitch now if you're ready?”  
Jamie would have liked to have taken a shower and changed her clothes, but the need to check on Mitch proved stronger than anything else. “Yeah. Let's do that.”

x-x-x-x-x

They were finally able to track Mitch down to a room in a special ward, the sign above the door stating the single word – isolation. He was laying in a hospital bed, in a glass-fronted room with minimal equipment around him. He was also strapped down at wrist ankle and waist. He no longer wore an oxygen mask or had an intravenous line, or catheter attached. Apart from a sheet covering his pelvis, he also appeared to be naked.   
Jamie couldn't believe it and made to rush into the room but found herself held back by Abe. She twisted to stare up at him. His expression was impassive.  
“What the hell is this? Jamie asked him, anger in her voice. “Abe?”  
“You have to understand. There's nothing they can do for him. Any human exposed to the waterborne hybrids ends up in one of two states. Either they suffer violent episodes of gastric dysentery resulting in catastrophic organ failure and a quick end, or like Mitch, in a psychotic fugue resulting in violent behavior aimed at whoever approaches them. In the end, depending on age and fitness, they suffer from one or more major organ failures due to the continual high blood pressure, high levels of adrenalin, or experience a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. I'm sorry.”  
Jamie sagged, but Abe didn't release his hold of her. She thought the corridor went dark for a moment then she blinked and could see again. She pushed at the restraining hands, Abe releasing her when she didn't make any move to enter the room.   
She swallowed, eyes fixed on the man in the room. “Does Clem and the others know?”  
“They do now,” Abe replied.   
Jamie felt sick, her stomach cramping. “What about sedation? Can the violence be controlled...”  
Abe interrupted her. “Jamie. Try to understand, the people here have known about the waterborne spore far longer than we have. They didn't find a cure then, and there isn't one now.”  
She swallowed down the nausea. “Are they still looking?”  
“For a cure? No. They are focusing everything on curing the sterility issue, right now. Everything else takes a back seat to that.”  
Jamie shook her head, still looking into the room. Mitch appeared to be sleeping, his hands relaxed at his side. As peaceful as anyone can look with restraining cuffs on their hands and feet.   
“Is this what happened to Jackson's mother, to that scientist Dariella shot, is it?” She waited for Abe to confirm her question with a slight nod. “Is that what's going to happen to Mitch? Are you just expecting me to stand by and watch him turn into a monster? Or worse, be kept in a coma for the rest of his life?” Her head was buzzing and she felt short of breath.   
Abe shook his head. “This is going to be hard for you to hear, but you and Mitch are not married, so you have no say concerning what happens to him. His fate was decided when he was exposed to the spore. There is only one solution for anyone affected – euthanasia.”  
This time the blackness did take her, Jamie sliding down the wall and collapsing at Abe's feet. He looked down at her for a moment, a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes before they hardened and he bent down to pick her up, limp as a ragdoll and carried her away.

X-x-x-x-x-x

When Jamie next opened her eyes she had a splitting headache and was lying in a bed. White curtains diffused the morning sun streaming through the window, illuminating the unfamiliar room until her eyes found a heartbreaking object placed on the bedside table. It was Mitch's glasses she'd been carrying around in her jacket pocket. Then everything rushed back in and she fell back against the pillows, flattened by the enormity of what Abe had told her. What Mitch's fate would be. Nausea clawed at her throat and she made a dash for the bathroom only to wretch helplessly, her stomach giving up nothing more substantial than bile. Collapsing onto the cold tiles, she propped her elbow up on the pristine toilet seat and rested her head in her hand. She looked down at herself, noting that she was wearing nothing but a pair of undies and a t-shirt. Her head, at least, now felt substantially better so she rose to her feet and flushed the toilet before padding into the bathroom to rinse her mouth. She stared at herself in the mirror, seeing red-rimmed eyes peering out of a pale face, smudged circles under her lower lashes and lines puckering her forehead. Turning away from the sink she stripped off her few clothes and stepped into the shower, grateful for the blast of cold before the warm water came through. Someone had placed some courtesy bottles of generic shampoo and shower gel in the cubicle so she used them. She noted that her hair was in dire need of a trim if she hoped to keep the smart bob she'd been wearing for the past couple of years. Running her fingers through her short hair, to rinse away the last of the shampoo, she decided she'd done with the bob, that part of her life over for the time being. The world was going to hell and that was as good a time as any to grow out an old hairstyle. Mitch always liked her hair longer, anyway. Switching off the water, she stepped out and wrapped herself in one of the towels supplied, relishing the thick nap as she padded back to the sink to brush her teeth with the provided toothbrush and paste. Plenty of time to pull out her own personal bits for use later. In one of the drawers she found a comb and dragged it through her ragged locks, scraping it ruthlessly off her face, the severe style making her cheekbones more prominent and her blue eyes even bluer, harder and more resolute. Dropping the towel, she rummaged among the bags for a clean set of underwear and clothes, choosing a more formal look of blouse and slacks, even though the items chosen could have benefitted from a press with an iron. Lastly, she found her makeup bag and decided to go with the bare minimum of some mascara and lipstick. Today she had to be stoic Jamie, the one who happily used whoever she needed to get her way. Today she was going into battle – not against the hybrids, not even to fire a gun, but into battle for Mitch's life. She was already going over and discarding various scenarios in her head, planning as she always did, had always done in the past. This was no different. They may have given up, and she could see now that Abe had, but Jamie Campbell was damned if she'd give up on Mitch, on finding a cure, on doing what she always did – the impossible.   
But first she had to find out how much time she had to work with, what the real situation was, and what she needed to do to turn things to her, and Mitch's, advantage. 

X-x-x-x-x

Despite her still unsettled stomach, she made her way to the food hall and got herself something to eat and drink. With people all around her chattering and eating, she felt enclosed in a bubble, cut off from the human race. She was mentally compiling a list of the steps she needed to take when someone sat down in the chair opposite her. It was Jackson. She forced herself to smile.  
“Hello, Jackson.”  
“Good morning. You look like you had a good nights rest.” He beamed at her.  
“Amazing what a shower and a change of clothes can do for a girl.” She smiled back.  
His expression abruptly sobered. “I'm so sorry about Mitch. We all are.” He reached across to place his hand on top of hers. She allowed it but her skin crawled.  
“That's kind of you, but I'm not prepared to just roll over and accept it, just because Abe or yourself say so. You should know that by now, Jackson.”  
He withdrew his hand. “No. I do know that. But in the end, you'll come to the same conclusion.”  
“How much time does he have before they decide to...” She sucked in a steadying breath. “How long until they decide?”  
Jackson looked down at the table top, then back up at her. “Once a diagnosis is made, the decision is usually finalized before the end of the week.”  
“That soon?” she worked hard to keep her voice even.  
“They don't like the patient to suffer. Then the body is cremated. It's very humane.”  
Some of her suppressed rage leaked out. “He's a man, not a dog!”  
Jackson raised an eyebrow and she brought her temper under control.   
“I'll be able to see him before they...before all that happens?” she asked.  
Jackson nodded, his expression sympathetic. “They'll keep him comatose, but I'm sure they'll let you say your goodbyes.”   
Jamie hated him.   
To gather her wits she sipped at her fruit juice. “Well then, I guess that's that. Tessa's looking well, it was great to see you all yesterday.”  
She listened as Jackson responded eagerly to her deflection and enthused about what he and Tessa were working on. Apparently, the team who saved the world ten years ago still held a certain cache and were allowed to dabble in whatever they wanted to, in regards the sciences. Jackson and Tess were exploring the limits of Jackson's special ability to influence animals, conducting a number of experiments with varying results. His specialty was big cats, as he'd already demonstrated with the lions for a number of years, and puma and tiger just recently. Jamie listened with half an ear, finishing her food and drink while he talked.   
“Well, that all sounds like you're making real progress. I have to go and see Mitch if you'll excuse me?” She got up and Jackson rose with her.   
“It's great to see you again, Jamie.” He gave her his best winsome half smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.  
“You too, Jackson. I'll see you later, okay?”  
He nodded in lieu of a reply, then watched her walk away, remaining where he stood until she was lost among the crowds. 

Jamie found her way to the isolation ward after quizzing a couple of orderlies. Now she stood in the hallway, looking through the window at the man she loved above all others. He looked much as he'd done the previous night, his tall frame sprawled over the hospital bed, still secured at wrists, ankles, and waist by velcros strapping. What was different from yesterday was the intravenous line now feeding into a needle placed in his forearm on the left-hand side. A chart hung up beside the door, so she lifted it down and started to read through the various graphs, records, and drugs administered.   
“Can I help you?” a voice asked. Jame slowly turned, looking for all the world as if she had every right to be there, which in her mind she did.   
“Our friend in there is on some pretty high doses of antipsychotics” She smiled sweetly at the nurse. “He been giving you any trouble?”  
The nurse relaxed, taking in the woman's clothes and makeup, judging her to be another of the researchers or specialist that seemed to breed like weeds.   
“Not really. He's been pretty docile overnight, seemed to experience a nightmare or two, thrashing about, but for the most part, he's taken to being a veggie quite well.”  
Jamie raised a delicate brow. “Veggie?”  
The nurse had the grace to blush. “Sorry, some of our patients are kept in a semi-permanent vegetative state...”  
Jamie nodded. “Hence – veggies. Who did you piss off to get stuck with this shift?” Again she employed her most winning smile. The nurse, who was younger than Jamie, responded in kind.  
“Oh, it's not so bad. You new here?”   
Jamie smiled wryly. “That obvious, huh?”  
The nurse shrugged. “Most of the specialists know about the veggies, so if you don't you have to be pretty new around here.”  
“So he's not the only one like this. You said veggies – plural.”  
The nurse suddenly looked nervous. “Look. I have to get on. It was nice talking to you.”  
“Yeah, same. See you...” Jamie waved to the nurse, watching her almost run down the corridor. Jamie left the isolation ward and made her way back to her room, her thoughts going around and around. If there were others kept, like Mitch, as a veggie...she shuddered even thinking about that term. If they kept the people alive, but under heavy sedation rather than euthanizing them, why would Abe and Jackson tell her that? If she was supposed to accept Mitch as terminal and move on with her life, what was going to happen to Mitch, if he wasn't dead? Her journalistic spidey sense was tingling for all it was worth - there was something happening that was being covered up, and nothing got her more intrigued and more engaged than a mystery, especially a cover-up. This one had an added incentive because quite literally a man's life hung in the balance. 

She swiped her card through the apartment door security and slipped into her room. She went into the bathroom and gazed at herself critically. Maybe now was not the time to let her hair grow out, maybe it was just the right time for the old Jamie to return, the one that tracked down untraceable Shepherds, who hacked and sleuthed her way across countries and around the world, the same Jamie that spied and manipulated and coerced information from whatever source was available. That Jamie would be the one to find out what was going on. Rummaging in her makeup bag she found a pair of long-bladed scissors and started to carefully trim her hair to return it to a shorter, chic bob.

X-x-x-x-x-x

When she appeared for lunch, she had wiped off most of the lipstick and messed up her hair to hide that it had been trimmed. She saw Abe, Jackson, and Dariela at a table and walked over to join them.  
“Hey.” she greeted them.  
“Hey, Jamie, come and have lunch with us!” Jackson enthused, waving at the spare chair.   
“I will, I'll just go and get something.” She embraced the table with a smile and strolled off to get a tray of something to eat and drink. As she queued she kept an eye on the table and noticed that all three were speaking about something with their heads close together. Dariela turned around to check on Jamie, who made sure she was facing forward just in time. Soon she had made her choice and returned across the room, weaving among the tables to reach theirs.   
“Sorry it took so long, there was a bit of a queue.” She sat down and started to unwrap her sandwich. Jackson exchanged a glance with Abe then spoke.   
“We were wondering if you had thought about what you want to do with your time here?”  
Jamie finished her mouthful and gave him a quizzical look. “My time here?”  
Jackson indicated all around them. “Well, Abe here is deeply involved in finding the cure for sterility. Tessa and I are researching my abilities regarding the animals. Clem has her hands full with baby Sam, and Dariela is passing on her knowledge as a Ranger to the security team.”  
Jamie sipped her juice as if thinking it over. All three were watching her intently.   
“Well, I hadn't really thought about it. Of course, some of my time will be spent with Mitch until...” She watched their reactions, noting that Abe looked peeved, Jackson barely able to stop himself rolling his eyes, and Dariela looked...well, she looked angry, something that perplexed her. Ignoring the range of emotions, Jamie sucked in her bottom lip, let it go then spoke.   
“I don't suppose there is much use for a small town investigative reporter around here, it's not like they have their own newspaper, and my only other skill is as a writer. I suppose I could use some of my time finishing my second sequel. Then when things come right in the world I have something to present to my publisher – assuming she's still alive.” She shrugged. “Other than that, do you have any suggestions?”  
Jackson beamed at her as if she was a child who had just given him the right answer to a difficult question. “I'm sure something could be found that ties in with your qualifications.”  
Abe and Dariela also smiled, as if pleased that the topic had been raised and could now be dismissed, Jamie taken care of, for the immediate future.   
She was never so glad that she'd perfected her poker face all those years ago. She'd never thought she'd have to use it on the few people she regarded as family. Soon after the table broke up, Jamie left to eat her lunch alone, allowing her to engage in her second favorite occupation - people watching.  
She quickly spotted the nurse she'd spoken to earlier, sitting with others like her, all of them chatting away like crazy. Jamie didn't try and catch her eye, carefully smoothing down her hair to draw attention to its color, happy to be spotted like any other employee, going about her business as they all were. To her surprise, the ruse worked, the young woman getting up from her table and approaching Jamie's.  
“Hey.”  
“Hey,” Jamie replied, smiling up at the young nurse. “Want to sit down?”  
The woman did, but Jamie sensed she was nervous, wiping her hands down her skirt repeatedly. She gave the nurse time to gather her thoughts. Only when Jamie was draining her juice did the woman speak.   
“I'm sorry I ran away this morning. We're not supposed to speak to anyone about the...you know.”  
Jamie nodded. “Won't tell a soul. I'm still trying to find my way around as is it. That's how I ended up there, I was kinda lost.”  
The nurse smiled, losing some of her tenseness. “It's easy enough to do. I expect you wanted C Wing, that's in the opposite direction.”  
“You're right, that was where I was supposed to go, thank you for that.”  
They exchanged a small smile. Jamie decided to push a little.  
“You said there were more of the...” She lowered her voice. “Veggies.”  
The nurse leaned forward. “There is, lots of them. They're kept in the lower levels.”  
“That must be hard work, looking after so many?”  
The young woman shrugged. “Could be worse. Usually, all we do is bathe them, change or empty their bags and turn them if necessary.”  
Jamie opened her eyes wide in a silent query for clarification.  
“Oh, they need to be turned to avoid bed sores.”  
“Of course, that must be a problem. I imagine some have been there for years.”  
The woman nodded. “So I've heard. Such a shame, some of them so young too.”  
“Is it just men, or is there a girls section?” Jamie knew she'd gone too far when the nurse pulled back from the table.   
“I really shouldn't be talking about all this. Forget I said Anything. Please?”  
“Of course. I'd probably get into worse trouble than you if I said anything. I'm Jamie.” She held out her hand and the young nurse took it, looking relieved.  
“Kara. Look, I have to go. Nice to see you again.”  
“Same here,” Jamie replied, smiling up at the woman, keeping that smile in place until the nurse was out of the room, then she let it slip, hiding her expression by clearing her table and taking the rubbish over to one of the bins. 

X-x-x-x-x

She wanted to go and see Mitch but forced herself instead to go back to her room, it was time she started to make notes and make a plan. Sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the small sitting room, she tucked a leg under herself and balanced the notebook on the arm of the chair. She had searched through all the bags, hers and Mitch's, but all his journals, her tablet, and laptop had been taken. She was left with only a raw block of lined refill to use, and a small palm-sized unlined notebook. 

For a few moments she tapped the end of the ballpoint on her bottom lip, then she started to write using the top page of the line refill.  
First, she detailed what she could remember of the routine to enter onto the airport island, across the swing bridge. She needed to find out if an authorization was needed to leave the island and what were the rules concerning curfew. Secondly, she closed her eyes and tried to recall as much as possible that Mitch had told her about the spores, from that first moment they discovered them. She headed up a new page...why did the cattle die?  
She wrote for a solid hour, putting down as much as she could remember, putting it into a sequence of events, ending with Mitch being affected and what Abe had told her.   
Now she headed up a new chapter - Why do they need to keep patients under sedation?  
The answer seemed too simplistic. They needed to keep the patients sedated to avoid having to ask permission to do whatever was being done to them. If someone is dead or is thought of as dead, there was no need to seek permission to do anything you wanted – organ transplant, drug trials, guinea pigs, anything was possible. She turned the page and wrote a new heading.   
Is this just about curing sterility, or is this all about the hybrids?

After working solidly on everything she could think of about the current situation, she packed up all the notes and hid them. She would have to work hard to allay suspicion, and if the notes, even one was found it could all blow up in her face, so she was careful. The hiding place she'd created in the new mattress proved adequate for the task, Jamie finding that it still held a pistol and clip, Mitch's spare glasses case, with glasses, and the spare set of truck and trailer keys. Now the paperwork was going to be added. She tested it afterward, to make sure there was no crackling sound when she sat on the bed and no lump discernible to the casual observer. 

Having done all she could, she went to find out what had been done with the vehicle they brought with them from Boulder. Central information sent her to a parking garage where she spoke to several people, each one sending her further along the chain until she was standing at last among the vehicles that had formed the convoy from Butte. There was the Unimog and she felt a small lift in her spirits to see it. With the loss of her plane, she had a keen appreciation for reliable equipment, and the truck and trailer had more than proved themselves worthy in the last month. As luck would have it, the vehicle was unlocked, and as she had half expected it had been stripped of nearly everything, inside and out. She stared forlornly into the backspace, now devoid of Mitch's mattress, their personal possessions, the jerry cans and water containers. She approached the cab and climbed inside. That had been stripped as well, all her toys and weapons taken and put somewhere. Finding nothing left, she approached a mechanic working on one of the Humvee's.   
“Hey. Hi there, I wonder if you can help me?”  
The mechanic lifted his head so sharply he cracked it on the bonnet.   
“Hey, yeah, what can I do for you?” He couldn't stop his eyes wandering all over her and she wanted to slap him silly. Schooling a cajoling expression on her face she sent him a beguiling smile.   
“Well, you see I'm new here, only arrived the other day and my boss, he wanted me to check out the truck, but all his stuff has been taken out of it. I was wondering if you knew where they took it all?”  
The mechanic smiled back at her, wiping his hands on his overalls. “They put all the tech into a lock up, and the weapons went to the armory. Everything was labeled, so your boss can easily claim it back. Anything else, not tech or weapons, was put in that bin over there.”  
Jamie bit her bottom lip and posed, her hands clasped behind her back, shamelessly pushing her chest out. The man nearly got his eye poked out, but it had the desired effect. He was putty in her hands.   
“And if my boss wanted it all put back on the truck? Do I need to get authorization for that?”  
The mechanic shrugged. “Someone might want to know why, but we don't have authorization as such, we just get the okay from central, they have the final word.”  
Jamie grinned at him. “Wow, you know everything. I suppose you'd need a pass to get over that bridge to go into the city?”  
The mechanic laughed. “Nope. You just have to bring back something the guys on the bridge want. Which is really easy, 'cos they always want cigarettes and booze.”  
“I bet you've been there tons of times,” Jamie stated. She pulled her hands out from behind her back and leaned on the vehicle the man had been working on.   
“Once or twice. They send out hunting parties and there's a bonus if you kill certain types. Relieves the boredom around here.”  
A door banged somewhere in the garage and Jamie figured she'd got all she could from the mechanic.   
“You've helped me so much, my boss is sure to want to make sure you're rewarded for your trouble. Who does he ask for?”  
“No trouble. Carl Rymes is my boss, he's the boss of anything to do with vehicles.”  
Jamie leaned forward to read the grimy name label on his equally dirty overalls.   
“Well, thank you, Mike you've been a big help. See yay.”  
She sauntered away, hips swinging, knowing that Mike's stare would be glued to the movement.

Mitch looked much the same as he had that morning. He was still hooked up to a drip, his wrists, ankles, and waist were still secured with straps, and he was still unconscious. She knew that even if she sat with him all night, he'd be no more aware of her presence than he was now. Shaking her head, she walked away. She had five days to come up with a plan. 

x-x-x-x-x


	16. Just A Journalist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See previous chapter - Countdown - Day One of Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really to add, only to say that if something seems wrong, or I'm tripping over myself, do feel free to let me know. Can't put it right if I don't know it's broken. Probably a bit late in the day to mention it, but you never know. This story has more twist and turns than a hanky in a washing machine.

Jamie decided her first port of call would be Doctor Scofield. It would accomplish two things, what Ally's position was, in the hierarchy of the place, and how much access Jamie had to information.

She dressed as she had done the previous day, semi-formal with a touch of corporate, a style she'd noticed was prevalent among the specialists, as it was out in the real world. She was starting to think like that now, that life at the Vancouver airport was a world of its own, completely divorced from anything happening out in the world beyond the barrier. It was like everything had become reversed. Now it was safer to be on the west coast, beyond the barrier, as opposed to the rest of the states now on the eastern side. Everything was topsy-turvy.

After breakfast and another round of people watching to see who congregated with who, she headed for the hub of communications – central command. Whatever authority ruled this new city, it all stemmed from the communications hub. 

Maintaining her best confident expression, she approached the desk, the woman behind looking up and asking her how she could help. Jamie smiled politely and asked if she needed to make an appointment to see Doctor Alexandra Scofield. The woman smiled indulgently, obviously used to dealing with first-timers, and advised her that no appointment was necessary as Doctor Scofield was on an open schedule – whatever that meant, Jamie thought. She next asked where she had to go to see Doctor Schofield. That apparently was not such an easy question. The woman, her name badge labeled her Sal, asked what business she had with the Doctor. Jamie explained briefly about meeting Ally on the road, and wanting to touch base with her, a logical enough request. Sal considered this and asked her to wait a moment. Jamie watched her speak to a colleague at the counter, before turning back.  
“Doctor Scofield will be available to see you anytime after eleven this morning. She is in conference until then. If you tell me your apartment number I can call you, and advise where she'll be.”  
Handing over her room card, Jamie maintained her relaxed pose while inwardly seething with impatience.  
“Thank you, Miss Campbell. We'll call you at eleven.”  
Jamie smiled and swung away from the counter, hating that she had three hours to kill, when she'd rather be moving forward. To fill her time she decided to explore. There were no maps or tour guides so she went with her gut instead. From her people watching at the cafeteria and her trips to see Mitch and the trucks, she knew how to get to one of the medical wings and the garages. Now she had to find her way around. She decided to visit C wing, which the nurse Kara had mentioned. 

For the time being she was avoiding her team members, partially because she didn't trust them anymore, and partially because she had her own agenda and didn't want to have to explain what she was doing or lie about it.  
At the junction where she would turn right to reach the isolation wing and Mitch, she turned left. Here she encountered more people traveling the halls, the signage indicating that this area was home to researchers of many different disciplines. Once more she found herself facing a central reception desk.  
“Hi. I'm Jamie. I'm here to see that the samples we brought with us are yielding results. Can you direct me to that department?”  
“Samples?” the receptionist looked politely at her guest.  
“Animal, specifically snake, and water samples, regarding the hybrid spores.” She maintained eye contact with the receptionist, exuding confidence that she knew what she was talking about.  
“That would be laboratory sixteen for the animal pathology, and laboratory thirty-seven for the water. Follow the blue line for sixteen, the yellow line for thirty-seven.” she indicated the colored lines on the walls.  
“Thank you.” Jamie decided to tackle the snakes first as they most closely related to what Mitch was going through. The blue line wended its way down hallways and around corners, ending up at a door labeled pathology. Pushing the door open she walked inside, recognizing the sights, sounds, and smell from her time with Mitch. Several people were working around the room and she paused just inside the door to assess who to approach. The decision was taken from her when the door behind her opened and another man entered. He was tall, spare, bespectacled and going grey.  
“Hello? Are you in the right place?” he asked, reaching for a white coat hanging on a peg.  
“Yes, thank you. I'm a special assistant to Doctor Mitchell Morgan, veterinary pathologist. You're working on his animal samples, or so I've been told. I'm here to gather preliminary results?”  
“You're in luck, I'm the head of the department studying hybrid pathology, and I'd love to be able to discuss my views with Doctor Morgan, is he available?”  
Jamie shook her head. “He's tied up at the moment, but he trusts me to relate what findings you have to share.”  
The man smiled. “Well then, this is my lucky day. If you come over here, I'll show you what I've discovered. I'm Doctor Adams.” He held out his hand. Jamie shook it and smiled at him, turning on the charm.  
“Jamie Campbell.”  
“Well, Miss Campbell, we were excited to receive the snakes, but I'll admit there were more than we ever expected. I've read over Doctor Morgan's notes regarding their behavior, his theory on what killed them and so on. He certainly has a good grasp of the mechanics of mutation and its relationship to DNA, the triple helix in particular. He mentions the difference between the engineered hybrids and the second generation..” he paused to assess her expression. “Tell me if this is getting boring. You must have already heard all this from the man himself.”  
Jamie graced him with her most winning smile. “Not at all. As you say, the snakes, like the guard dog we first sampled, the one that came back to life? We expect them to show a subtle but obvious difference in their DNA, which I can see you've got exhibited on your screen?” She pointed to it and it was if she'd managed to prove to the good doctor that she was legitimate in claiming to be Mitch's assistant.  
“That's completely right, you really are his assistant...I mean...” He stammered to a halt, looking guilty. Jamie smiled smugly.  
“You thought I might be a fraud. I forgive you. Doctor Morgan would approve your caution.”  
The Doctor visibly relaxed. “We have to be so careful. If news got out about this new DNA strand and its variation, it could pull attention away from the current focus, and that would be disastrous.”  
Jamie opened her eyes wide and raised her eyebrows to silently query the man. He took the bait.  
He held two of his fingers not quite together. “We're this close to solving the sterility problem, now we have the Lewis child. We've been able to skip an entire barrage of testing because of that baby. We can go straight to implantation and fertilization, isn't that fantastic?”  
Jamie looked around. “Where are they finding all the volunteer surrogates needed?” she lowered her voice. “I haven't seen anyone but staff since we arrived.”  
Doctor Adams tapped the side of his nose. “Given the urgency of the cure, they've had to jump some of the stages and go directly to human trials.” He lowered his voice to a whisper despite the closest co-worker being clearly out of earshot. “The thing is, they've found out that it's only the women that are infertile, not the men. We've been able to harvest and experiment on both ova and sperm without the usual...um...ethical limitations placed on such vital research, so we're ready to jump in and...” He leaned forward and jostled her with his elbow. “start implanting potentially viable embryos. They're starting this week. Isn't that marvelous? All our hard work all these years is finally going to pay off. That one baby boy will give the human race back a fighting chance to repopulate the world. I'm almost giddy at the prospect. I envy any woman who puts herself forward to be a test subject and become the first mother in a decade, after the Lewis girl of course.”  
Jamie had let the Doctor rattle on, hopeful of learning as much as possible. Apparently, the good Doctor was dying to tell someone. She wondered if he'd respond to a bit of flattery.  
Drawing in a deep breath, she smiled at him as if she was in the presence of genius, her eyes sparkling and warm, the effect on the Doctor was as if she'd poleaxed him.  
“You sound like you'll be deserving the highest award for serving the country, Doctor Adams, I'm in awe of what you are doing here. Not only securing the future of the human race but also potentially curing all the animal race as well.” She beamed at him. “I'm so proud of you.”  
It was exactly what the man wanted to hear, his face, usually drawn into anxious lines, relaxed and dropped years in age, drinking in her obviously approval and admiration like a flower soaking up the sun.  
“I can't take all the credit, we've been rather sunk into the whole hybrid situation in this department, but I do take some credit for highlighting the possibility of cross-species hybridization.”  
Jamie looked a perplexed. “But Doctor Morgan had evidence that some of the hybrids are completely sterile, having no sexual organs inside or out to be able to reproduce. He was leaning towards the theory of spontaneous atypical cloning from samples of modified blood.”  
“We know. His notes on the wolf hybrid were quite adamant the creature was asexual, unusual in the natural world, but not entirely unheard of. Hasn't prevented us attempting to incorporate those same traits using human subjects.” He didn't notice Jamie's brief expression of horror, quickly masked.  
“In fact, we've been doing a series of trials to try and control the triple helix mutations in humans with limited effect. The results have not always been those expected.” He gave a chuff of laughter. “Just goes to show how complex the human system is compared to an animal.”  
Jamie laughed with him, but the sound was hollow. What the hell sort of monster factory was this!  
“I understood from a Doctor Scofield that female chimps, our closest DNA match, are still able to reproduce viable offspring.”  
Doctor Adams nodded vigorously. “That was what started us on this separate quest. That's the reason for experiments in hybridization. If we could isolate that small percentage of difference, create a cross-species hybrid and implant human DNA to grow a human fetus, well, the possibilities boggle the mind. It would bypass the need for a human host, negate the need for a human womb.” His face was flushed and his eyes glowing, no sense of as to how grotesque the prospect sounded.  
“So we'd have two ways of creating babies, through usual human reproduction and through hybridization. That's groundbreaking, that's genius!” Jamie enthused, swallowing down the nausea threatening to destroy her cover. “Doctor Morgan will be so impressed with the strides you are taking in this very lab. I know I am.”  
Doctor Adams beamed as if it was all his idea, his project, his monster.  
Jamie laid a hand on his arm and leaned forward. “I would so love to hear more about your part in this heroic scientific breakthrough.” She kept her voice low and husky. “Would you be free for dinner tonight?”  
The Doctor looked taken aback for a moment, then beamed at her. “That would give me the greatest pleasure, my dear. Would Doctor Morgan be joining us?”  
“Do you want him too?”  
The good Doctor shook his head and swallowed thickly. Jamie nodded and smiled, using one finger to trace Doctor Adams bottom lip. “Then it will be just you...and me,” she purred. She reached onto the bench behind him and draw a piece of paper towards her. She wrote her apartment number down. “How about eight tonight?”  
Doctor Adams nodded. Jamie tapped his cheek and turned to go.  
“It was a great pleasure to meet you, Doctor Adams.” She pitched her voice so the others in the room could hear her.  
“And I you,” Doctor Adams replied, his voice rather strangled and hoarse.

X-x-x-x-x  
Jamie hurried back to her apartment, wanting nothing more than to scrub herself from head to toe. Duplicity was always hateful, but she couldn't afford to be squeamish. Doctor Adams was perfect for what she needed. Fortunately for her, and Mitch, the people who search their bags didn't find what was truly hidden, only what they expected to find. In past years she had needed to employ some very shady ways of extracting information from people, some of them easy, some of them painful, all of them successful in getting her what she needed to know. She checked the clock on the wall, noting it was gone ten. She had time before meeting Doctor Schofield. Stripping off, she left her clothes littering the floor and headed for the shower. She didn't need to get clean, per se, but she needed the soothing flow of water over her body to calm herself down and regain her equilibrium. Depending on how things went with Ally, and how much she was able to find out, she needed to go and have another word with Mike in the garage about refitting the Unimog, as well as when he expected to go on another hunting party. If it was soon, she would be going too. After that, she would go to lab thirty-seven that was processing the water samples and see what she could find out. Finally, she would need to prepare a special cocktail for lecherous Doctor Adams, a little truth serum would loosen his tongue and answer a few of the many hundreds of questions she had about everything. 

X-x-x-x-x

Ally was pleased to see her, giving the younger woman a hug when Jamie arrived at her office.  
“I'm so sorry I haven't been to see you since we arrived,” said Ally. “But I'm sure you understand, with the advent of Baby Sam, we are able to move ahead and jump several stages with the new knowledge your Team brought with them.”  
“My friends certainly seemed to have settled in well, here. I almost get the feeling they don't want to leave!” Jamie made it sound like a joke, but in truth that was exactly how it seemed to her. Ally took it entirely at face value.  
“I can understand that. I was glad to get back here myself. With what is happening out there, with the release of the hybrids into the east, this could be the safest place to be right now.”  
“That's the feeling I get.” Jamie blew on her coffee to cool it and took a sip. “Have you heard anything about Mitch's condition? I've been told differing accounts from people, but I figured you'd be the best to ask.”  
Jamie watched Doctor Scofield closely, but the woman didn't seem to be embarrassed, or shamefaced. Maybe she was trustworthy?  
“I have talked to my colleagues, Doctor Morgan is not the first to be afflicted like this, and they are discussing the options available.” Ally paused, her expression conflicted. “You may have been told that patients infected by the hybrid spore have the equivalent of a terminal diagnosis, the only option open, the only humane option is to euthanize the patient.”  
Jamie didn't stop the prickle of tears stinging her eyes. “I was told that by Abe, and Jackson confirmed it.”  
Ally continued. “And in any other case, that would be true. There are no facilities for looking after the violently psychotic, other than to keep them sedated and that is just pointless.” She paused again, putting her coffee down and clasping her hands together atop her knees.  
Jamie reasoned that either the Doc was lying, or wasn't aware of veggies being kept alive for other purposes, that not being her department. Jamie waited, her eyes fixed on the doctor, hanging on her next words.  
“There are several instances of people, like your friend Jackson, who had the ghost gene, but with some gene therapy, such as Mitch developed and some hormone treatments, they have recovered from the negative effects of the hybrid mutations and developed some unique side effects.”  
“You mean, Jackson's ability to direct animals with his mind? He told me he and his partner, Tessa were studying just what the limits were, to understand it better.”  
Ally leaned forward. “Exactly. Now, Mitch, he has an extraordinary brain. We did a CT scan when he came in and the results were beyond everything we've seen in previous test subjects. Yes, he suffers from the violent impulses, but he also has something else going on, something we've not seen with anyone effected either by a bite, by the spore or any other combination of circumstances.”  
Jamie tried to keep herself calm and not read too much into the Doc's words.  
“Does that mean they aren't going to...euthanise him in four days time?”  
Ally shook her head vigorously. “No, no not at all...the fact that he was responsible for creating the cure for the animals ten years ago puts him in a totally different category than anyone else. His ability to cut straight through to the heart of the problem, any problem, as he did with Jackson and the genomic fossils, his intuitive reasoning in regards the effect the mutations have on the limbic system in the brain and other novel ideas make him a valuable resource.”  
Jamie put her now cold coffee down with trembling hands. She swallowed hard.  
“So what is the plan? How do you change him from the violent psychotic functioning purely under the influence of the hybrid spore, back to a usable genius?”  
Ally wagged her finger at Jamie. “That is exactly the question we have been wrestling with since I got back. The answer will sound strange, and I'll admit it could be dangerous, but we already know that Jackson's sister is a hybrid herself, so it is possible for a human to be hybridized and survive with their capacity for genius intact.”  
“I've seen the effect of a human after they are hybridized – Kovacs, a scientist, was infected and he turned into a monster. If you'd read Mitch's notes you'd know that. Plus I wouldn't use Abigail as a shining example of hybridization success – she's a megalomaniac. She tried to kill all of us. Clem only survived because she was in the tank!”  
Ally nodded. “We are aware that without some fancy gene therapy, the end result can be less than optimal, but that isn't going to be what happens to Mitch. Yes, hybridisation will give him the altered triple helix that we're seeing in second-generation hybrids, yes there will be some sort of mutation that at this time we don't know what form that will take, and yes there is always a risk that his body may reject what we try, but in some ways he is already different than he was before he was infected. He was even already different biologically from when you knew him ten years ago, on a genetic level from when the hybrids inflicted his injuries. His time spent in the resuscitation tank...well, let me just say we've never known anyone surviving so long and coming out as anything other than...”  
“A veggie?” Jamie supplied.  
Ally looked abashed. “I hate that term. But for our purposes, that is as good a description as any.”  
Jamie spoke again. “We know that Mitch wasn't always in the tank. Certainly, he was there long enough to heal the wounds he sustained from the wolf-hybrid attack on Pangea, but after that, we have no idea how long he was in or out of the tank.”  
Ally nodded. “And that could have a direct bearing on the changes we see from the number of tests we've performed since he arrived. Again, I'm sorry you haven't been kept in the loop, there just wasn't time. Whatever we do for Mitch has to be done while the spore is still mutating inside him.”  
Jamie chewed on her lip. “I know you don't need my permission, or Mitch's to do what you need to do, but if you can give him back to me...” It was too much. She covered her face with her hands and let out a sob. Ally moved towards her and perched on the side of the chair, her arm across Jamie's shoulder.  
“Shh now, I guess you've been worrying yourself into a fit over your man.” She gave the younger woman a squeeze, then got up and reached for a box of tissues, handing one to Jamie.  
Jamie mopped herself up. “I'm sorry. I'm not usually this emotional.”  
Ally looked at her, her expression thoughtful. “You know, you could be just what we're looking for.”  
Jamie looked up. “Looking for?”  
Ally nodded. “With Baby Sam bringing forward our time frame in regards human fertility, would you be interested in taking part in that programme?”  
Jamie blinked. “Pardon?”  
“Look. Whatever we do for Mitch will be happening over the next five days or so. In that time you could be making an important contribution to the future, as a potential first-generation parent.”  
Jamie blinked again. “You mean...become a test subject for the sterility cure?”  
Ally nodded. “I don't see why not. You're young enough, healthy, a few simple blood tests would rule out any complications regarding the usual screening for the ghost gene or any hereditary issues.”  
Jamie opened her mouth to answer, but couldn't seem to find the words.  
Ally carried on. “You friends, Dariela, Tessa and Clementine have all put themselves forward as possible candidates. Clementine has already proven her ability to carry a child full term, so has Dariela. Tessa had a child in her twenties that died, through no fault to do with genetics.”  
Jamie swallowed. “I was pregnant at sixteen, but it spontaneously aborted at eighteen weeks. I never knew why nobody said.”  
“Not unusual in a first pregnancy, and you were very young. But it proves you could get pregnant, so will you do it?” Ally pushed.  
Jamie found herself nodding despite feeling completely untethered from the moment. Before her courage gave out she asked. “What do I need to do?”  
Ally sat back down, a look of satisfaction on her face. “For now, nothing at all. I'll take care of everything. You'll need to give some blood, and we'll do a full workup on you to build a profile. We'll also need to put you under for some of the test as they are better if the patient doesn't move.”  
Jamie looked taken aback and Doctor Scofield hastened to reassure her.  
“Nothing serious, but you probably know that taking spinal fluid can be a painful procedure, and we also need to harvest at least one egg for comparison before we start you on the treatments.”  
Jamie managed a nervous smile. “I'm a little overwhelmed, I'll admit. I wasn't expecting any of this when I asked to see you...”  
Ally smiled back. “You were only interested in Mitch's welfare, I know. Think of what he'll say when he finds out you could possibly carry his child in the future. Wouldn't that be something to talk about?”  
Jamie felt tears pricking her eyes again and she bit her lip to stop them falling. She had a lot to process, she'd come to the meeting hoping to find out about Mitch, and now she was looking at taking part in the first trials using the cure for sterility. How the world changed in the blink of an eye. 

X-x-x-x-x

Jamie left her meeting with Ally in a daze. How she found her way back to her apartment she didn't know, it was as if she was sleepwalking. Several things mentioned seemed to be highlighted in her brain and repeating themselves. Walking into the bedroom, she curled up on the bedcover and tried to replay as much as she could remember of her conversation with Doctor Scofield. 

Mitch wasn't going to die, was the first statement that screamed out at her. She was pleased to be able to follow most of the technical and medical jargon, hanging around Mitch had certainly paid off dividends. Another topic that seemed to be headed in foot-high capitals was the revelation that Mitch might already be some way along the path to hybridization exactly because of what happened ten years ago. She couldn't believe that no one had put two and two together or queried the after effects, other than the horrific injuries, of Mitch being bitten by hybrids. The Tank had certainly done a good job of keeping him alive, although Mitch's wounds could have benefited from having a plastic surgeon work on them. They had no idea how interaction with the chemicals healing him also affected the hybrid saliva that would have been injected into his blood through the wounds. Also, they didn't know what Abigail may have injected him with during the years he was her plaything. Abigail had already proved that she had no compunction about using people or animals as her living laboratory, and the crazy woman had been a part of the trial for the bio-drive, having one inserted in Mitch without his knowledge or consent. That all the test subjects in that initial trial had died, spoke of Mitch being different in some way, his brain able to handle whatever the bio-drive did, whereas the other people hadn't. Thinking on that, Jamie figured that must have been done soon after Mitch was healed from the hybrid attack, for him to have worked on everything that Abigail was now using to carry out her personal crusade against humanity. 

All that aside, the other issue that jumped out at her and left her dizzy was becoming a test subject for the cure for sterility. That Dariela, Tessa, and Clem were also taking part was not surprising, although she was a little taken aback that Clem would agree to anything, when Sam senior was supposedly back in Denver recovering still. That would have to be clarified later. 

By agreeing to become part of the cure for sterility she was placing her future into the hands of people she still had reservations about. The whole ethical dilemma of using people infected with the spore to continue their research was just one issue up for debate, let alone a host of others she had difficulty getting her head around. 

But that was all secondary to the one and the only issue she was truly invested in. Mitch was going to live. That was the one nugget of information she held to her heart and allowed her to hope. 

X-x-x-x-x

She woke to the sound of knocking. She checked the clock and found she'd slept for a couple of hours. Rolling off the bed she padded barefoot to the apartment door and opened it. Clem stood on the other side, Baby Sam held in a sling across her chest, fast asleep.  
“Hi.”  
“Hey. Thought I'd come and see how you are?” Clem said. Jamie waved her in and followed the younger woman across the room to the easy chairs.  
“Can I get you anything?” Jamie asked.  
“Nope. I'm good.”  
Jamie got herself a drink of water, gulping it down before refilling the glass and carrying it over to one of the chairs and sitting down.  
“I thought we should really talk, about Dad...and stuff.” Clem shifted uncomfortably, her hand absently patting the rounded bottom of her baby held in the sling.  
Jamie instantly felt her guard go up. They'd had so little time to really get to know each other, to rediscover the bond they had when Clem was a little girl before Max whisked her away. Since the girl had arrived to tell her about Mitch, Clem had made some decisions that jarred with Jamie and made her cautious. Why had Clem held back about telling her father, or Jamie about her pregnancy, putting herself and her baby at unnecessary risk? Why had Clem so easily accepted Sam Parker back into her life on face value alone? He had been found in Abigail's lair, he'd tried to stop Abe...believed all the lies Abigail had fed him, why did she never query why he always took that crazy woman's side? Why did Clem side so quickly with Jackson, instead of listening to Mitch, or at least discussing alternatives? Sure, her focus was all on getting her child back but given the circumstance...  
All this was swirling in Jamie's brain as she sat facing Mitch's daughter. Clem cleared her throat and spoke first.  
“Look. You must be devastated about Dad...Mitch. We all are, but you have so much history with him.” She glanced down at her son. “I must seem heartless.”  
Jamie shook her head. “No, you don't. You have your son to care for, to live for. Your Dad would understand. We're living in such strange and overwhelming times.”  
Clem nodded her understanding of Jamie giving her an out.  
“I've said my goodbyes to Dad. I went to see him this morning.”  
“Clem..”  
“No. Let me finish. I don't know if Dad has ever spoken to you about my Mum.” She paused to watch Jamie shake her head. “No. He wouldn't. They got married because Mum became pregnant with me. They tried to stay together, for my sake, but when I got sick, and Dad tried so hard to find a cure,” she paused, staring for a moment out the window. “Mum just wanted all the tests and pain to stop. I hated my Dad sometimes for making me go through all that poking and prodding. Funny when you think what I've been through since.” She gave herself a little shake. “Anyway, I don't think my Dad was ever really in love with my Mum. They liked each other, and Dad loved me, but it was never destined to last. Dad was always restless, and I realize now he was consumed with guilt that something he'd done had caused my illness. That's why he stayed away so long.”  
Jamie kept her thoughts to herself, giving Clem the space to continue when she was ready.  
“I've seen how he is with you, how he watches you when you're not aware he is. There's a hunger in his eyes that I never saw, even with a child's perspective, when he looked at my Mum. I know things have gotten out of hand, what with Abigail and her insane behavior snatching my son, Jackson hijacking your plane and destroying it, and now Dad being infected with this horrible spore thing. I don't know why you aren't drumming your heels on the carpet and bawling. I know I'd feel pretty devastated if anything happened to Sam....big Sam, not little Sam.” Clem smiled. “Actually I'd feel that way if it was about either or both.”  
Jamie lowered her eyes, her hands clasped on her knees.  
“Clem. Mitch...your Dad and I, we love each other very much. The month we took to reach you was time well spent in finding out whether he and I were really an 'us'.” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I am coming to terms with what is happening to Mitch, but I'm not giving up until either of us draws our last breath. I love your Dad more than anyone else I've ever known, and I know he loves me the same way. If the world was a different place, we'd be looking at getting married, that's how committed we are.” Jamie paused, warring with her conscience whether she should pass on some of her conversation with Doctor Scofield. In the end, her cautious side won out.  
“I will never give up on Mitch, but I understand that you now have a new life to care for, a new future to look forward to with your son, and possibly with Sam as well. I know that everyone has accepted that Mitch will be dead in a few days, but I don't accept that. You understand?”  
Clem nodded, her eyes glittering even as she sniffed the tears back. “I do, I really do.”  
At the same time, the two of them stood and embraced, careful of the sleeping baby between them.  
Clem immediately started rocking back and forth when they separated, both women looking down at the peaceful child in her arms.  
“He really is quite beautiful,” Jamie murmured, stroking the downy head with a gentle finger.  
“He's my whole world,” Clem agreed, giving Jamie a watery smile. 

Jamie watched as Clem walked down the hallway away from the apartment. Heaving a sigh, she shut the door and went into the bedroom, flopping down face first on the mattress, her mind in a turmoil. Why on Earth hadn't she mentioned anything about the sterility cure to Clem? Why didn't she reassure the girl her father was going to be fine? The answer was simple and painful at the same time. For all she knew, she might not be a successful candidate for the cure, there might be something unseen that could affect her chances of being used in the trials. As for Mitch, it was not conclusive that whatever Ally and her team were planning would be one hundred percent successful, that the Mitch they revived wouldn't be significantly changed or altered from his former self. It was all such unknown territory whatever question you cared to ask. 

She looked at the clock, noting the time and calculating how long before Doctor Adams turned up at her door hoping for a good time. What he'd get would be a snoot full of the good stuff that would have him singing whatever tune Jamie wanted him too. Despite all she'd learned in the previous hours, she still believed in having a backup plan. Adams would provide answers to questions she hadn't been able to ask yet. But first, she had to bait the trap. Reviewing her limited wardrobe, she wondered which would be the most effective in lulling Adams into lowering his guard initially - the dominatrix, the whore or the schoolgirl. 

x-x-x-x-x


	17. Something Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same story, different day. Yaddayadda no money, not mine, will put them back when I'm done playing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another installment in the grand scheme of things. Still may be confusing to some, but all will come clear in the end...I hope.

Countdown – Day Two of Five

x-x-x-x-x

In her head, she was still working towards a deadline. Despite her conversation with Doctor Scofield and all that had implied, she would only believe what she'd been told when the end of the week had come and gone and Mitch was still breathing. 

She checked a wall clock as she passed it on her way to the food hall, noting that the Doctor Cornell Adams would be waking up about now, finding himself naked and wearing a well-used condom with no clear memory of the night before. She imagined he'd believe he had a riotous night with a flint-eyed dominatrix called Jemima, who he'd previously been introduced to as Jamie Campbell. Dressed in her tighter-than-decent black leather pants, heels, black lacy bra and carrying a leather strap in one hand, she was his wet dream come to life. That he couldn't remember exactly what they'd done after she'd plied him with a delicious cocktail and ordered him to strip, would be perplexing, but he had the evidence wrapped around his limp dick, in the welts on his bottom and bright red lipstick smeared all over his body. With smug assurance, he'd make use of the shower, dress and leave the apartment well satisfied, if a little fuzzy on details.

x-x-x-x

Jamie sat at one of the food hall tables after snagging herself a fruit juice. Her debauched evening with Cornell had resulted in her spending the night on the floor wrapped in a blanket with a spare pillow, while the doctor snored loudly in the bedroom. Setting the stage for when he awoke had been largely helped by the man himself. She had ordered him to strip after giving him a roofy in his colorful cocktail, his eyes never leaving their lecherous roaming all over her body, despite it being quite decently covered up. When he was down to skin and the cocktail all gone, she ordered him to put a condom on his rampant erection, the man barely getting the latex in place before he'd covered himself in glory and shot his load before she'd even touched him. Once her magic drink did its stuff, she was able to ask him whatever question she wanted to, Doctor Adams supplying a plethora of details he'd be embarrassed to know he surrendered with so little coercion on Jamie's part.   
When she was satisfied she'd found out all she needed to know, she injected the poor man with another hallucinogen, then proceeded to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, all the nasty perversions his little heart desired, until he climaxed a second time into the used condom. Jamie had a very vivid imagination. This time she relented and led the man to the bedroom, condom still attached, tucked him up and let him sleep after liberally smearing lipstick in strategic places. She mourned the waste of her favorite color, but she promised herself it was for a good cause, and at the first opportunity she'd find a replacement. To add the final touch to the scene, she used the leather strap on the Doctor's butt, hard enough to leave several reminders of his wicked night of delight.

Through the whole event, she hadn't touched the man once except through latex gloves. Now she smiled to herself and sipped her drink, another step along her way to having a backup plan in place if anything happened that didn't involve Mitch living and breathing after day five.

Today she would approach Mike the mechanic and arrange a trip to the city to introduce her to the bridge crew and the routine for getting off the island, as well as organize the Unimog's resupply. Admittedly, in a city the size of Vancouver, she could probably find all she wanted to equip the vehicles, but that wasn't the point. She wanted her toys back, and Mitch's equipment. The guns she wouldn't push for, it would raise too many questions, but the rest...well, she'd see how thing went with Mike. 

X-x-x-x

“Jamie?” She lifted her head to see Dariela approaching her table. Pasting a smile on her face, she waved.  
“Hey. Dariela, how are you?”  
“I'm fine. You?”  
“Coping, day by day, you know how it is.”  
Dariela nodded. “I wanted to know how you were settling in?”  
Jamie smiled. “The apartment is nice, comfortable.”  
“Good. Good. Um...you know if there was anything that could be done for Mitch, we'd all be doing it?”  
Jamie nodded, her smile gone. “I know. I'm just having some difficulty coming to terms with it.”  
Dariela covered Jamie's hand with her own.  
“I know how you feel. We've all suffered so much, lost so many, to lose another...”  
Jamie nodded and sent her a tight smile. Both of them drew in a breath to rein in the strong emotions swamping them. Jamie was the first to speak after a pause.   
“I was going to ask you, what is happening about Isaac? You left him with your sister?”  
Dariela nodded. “I did. It was the safest thing to do at the time, but we're hopeful, Abe and I, that we'll have him here with us before too long.”  
“That's wonderful, but how? I thought the planes were grounded due to lack of fuel.”  
Dariela ducked her head. “It was part of the deal. We, Abe and I, were going to leave here and fetch Isaac ourselves, but Abe was persuaded that it could be part of the contract for him becoming one of the researchers into the cure for sterility. Did you know that they have shortened the time scale to start human trials, all because of Baby Sam?”  
Jamie smiled. “That's wonderful news, and Abe is a part of that?”  
Dariela nodded. “And there's something else...I'm going to be part of those trials.”  
Jamie looked suitably surprised. Dariela looked excited. “Not only me, but Tessa as well, and even Clem has offered to help develop the necessary protocols for administering the cure. Of course, she has her hands pretty full at the moment just caring for Sam..”  
“Yes, I know. I saw her yesterday, we had a good talk.” Jamie informed her.   
“That's wonderful, so pleased for you.” Dariela suddenly jumped up. “I have to go. I'll see you later?”  
Jamie smiled again, her cheeks starting to ache. “Sure, have a good day.” She watched as Dariela left the food hall, not once looking back. “Funny you didn't ask if I'd be interested to take part,” she muttered before draining her glass. A man approached that she didn't recognize and handed her an envelope with her name on it, then left without speaking.   
Jamie opened the letter and found it detailed an appointment for her to start preliminary tests for her suitability to be a future mother of the world. She grimaced at the terminology but supposed it was kind of appropriate, given the magnitude of what they were about to attempt. 

X-x-x-x-x

Lying propped up on the examination bed, she stared up at the ceiling, her legs crossed at her ankles. The nurse had taken several vials of blood, a cheek swab and Jamie had supplied a urine sample about fifteen minutes ago. Now she waited for the next battery of testing. The hospital gown was scratchy rather than soft, and she wished she had something to read. Instead, she went over the plans in her head that she still had to implement. The door opened and Doctor Scofield stepped into the room.  
“Jamie! Well, this is a turn up for the books.”  
“Excuse me?”  
Ally approached the bed with a folder in her hands. “It seems that something unexpected has popped up from the initial testing.”   
“Nothing serious, I hope?” Jamie asked, puzzled by the Doc's cheerful demeanor.   
“No. Although it would depend on your point of view as to the seriousness of the situation.” Ally grinned down at her notes. “I imagine this will come as a surprise to you, more than most.”  
Jamie shook her head, more confused than ever. “Is there something wrong with my blood? Am I sick?”  
Ally shook her head. “No, my dear. You're pregnant.”  
Jamie looked shocked for a second, then gave a chuff of cynical laughter. “Good one. You almost had me there. But really, what's the problem?”  
Ally leaned her hip against the side of the bed, and reviewed the notes. “We estimate you are close to a month and a bit along, between four or five weeks.”  
Jamie stared at her, her expression still showing her disbelief. “That's simply not possible. I'd..I'd know.”  
Doctor Scofield raised an eyebrow and perused the notes again. “Have you experienced any nausea lately at any time of the day? Any dizzy spells or fainting?”  
Jamie stared at her, her mouth opening and closing several times as certain incidents came to mind. “I just thought it was shock...that what I was doing, feeling was making me sick...”  
“Commonly a woman starts to have regular morning sickness at six weeks, but it has been known to start as early as two-to-three weeks. Given the unusual nature of your pregnancy, whatever your body is going through is normal for you. Some women get no sickness at all, some get ill all day.”  
Jamie twisted her mouth in disgust. “Now you're just trying to cheer me up.”  
Ally laughed. “Jamie, dear, you're a walking miracle.”  
Jamie looked down at herself, then looked up sharply at the doctor. “Mitch is the father, but how will his hybridization affect what's happening to me? To our child?”  
“In all likelihood, his state of mutation, before this recent incident, is why you are pregnant in the first place.” Ally told her. “Mitch is unique, so there's no telling how his exposure to hybrid DNA has affected him, or what else he may have been exposed to via this Abigail person. All I do know is, that you are pregnant with only the second baby conceived this past decade, that we know of.”  
Too overwhelmed to do more than blink up at Doctor Scofield, Jamie tried to form a coherent thought. Then one flashed through her mind and she grabbed at Ally's arm.  
“You have to promise me you'll do everything to save Mitch!”  
Ally patted the hand clutching at her sleeve. “We already are, Jamie. I told you before, Mitch is a very special man and with this news, even more so. If we can find out the mechanism that enabled him to reverse the sterility in you, that will add so much to our own knowledge and maybe find a positive use for the hybrids taking over the world.”  
Jamie lay back on the bed, a hand covering her eyes. Suddenly something Mitch had said made her sit up again.  
“Mitch likened the hybrid spore to nanites, like some sort of nanotechnology, in their behavior. He couldn't at first work out if they were animal, vegetable or mineral.”  
Ally nodded. “That's quite possible. We're already looking into that for a way to modify their effect on the human body. If we can't clean them out of the environment, then we have to find a way to co-exist with them. Until we do, we're trapped here in Vancouver for the foreseeable future.”  
Ally patted her arm. “We won't need to do any more tests today. You can return to your apartment. I'll be in touch when we need to do an ultrasound, just to be sure.”  
“You said you were already helping Mitch, can I see him? Surely he's not still in isolation?”  
“He has been moved, and I'll see what can be arranged. Don't worry, Mitch is safe.”

x-x-x-x-x

All the way back to the apartment Jamie felt like she was walking several feet off the ground. She had never understood the expression in the past, nor experienced it until now. She also couldn't stop grinning, her face just naturally falling into a broad smile as she went, unaware of anyone near her or around her, walking in her own personal bubble of unalloyed joy. She, Jamie Campbell, was going to have a baby with Mitchell Morgan, scientist extraordinaire. She felt laughter bubble up inside her and had to keep it suppressed until she shut the door of the apartment behind her, then she let it out, her body feeling light as a thistledown, her feet carrying her to the bedroom. There she stopped, taking note of the rumpled covers left behind by Doctor Cornell Adams. Feeling energized, she swept off the sheets, top, and bottom and dumped them in the laundry chute in the bathroom. Picking up the blanket she'd slept wrapped in the night before, she spread that over the mattress and lay down. She wasn't tired, but somehow laying on the mattress made her feel closer to Mitch. She laughed at herself for being so ridiculously sentimental, but it didn't stop her smiling. On impulse she kicked off her jeans and boots, leaving her in a t-shirt and underwear. Gently she drew her fingers over her stomach, stroking circles over her flat abdomen, still in awe of the news she carried a tiny life inside her.   
“You should be here to be a part of this,” she whispered to the room, to Mitch.

X-x-x-x-x

Despite the astounding revelation of the morning, Jamie still made a rendezvous with Mike in the garage workshop. He was pleasantly surprised to see her back and was happy to suggest a trip into the city, something he'd arrange for the following night. It would be cutting it fine as far as her projected backup plan timeline, but it was an essential part of the scheme. 

With Mike's willing cooperation in place and a trip planned for the following night, there was nothing more for her to do except wait for word that she could visit Mitch to come through from Doctor Scofield. Feeling hungry, she wandered into the food hall and grabbed a tray, salad, and a drink. Finding an empty table near the window she set about demolishing the salad. She was nearly finished when someone appeared at her elbow. She looked up to see Kara, the nurse, standing beside her.  
“Mind if I join you?”  
Jamie waved her to the empty chair opposite. “How's everything going?”  
Kara grimace. “Just the usual. Hey, you know that man you saw in that isolation ward?”  
Jamie nodded her senses on alert. “The one you said had nightmares?”  
“That's him. Well, apparently he's not a veggie at all.” She paused expectantly.  
Curbing her impatience, Jamie smiled. “What is he then?”  
“Very important, if the size of the medical team that swooped down to carry him off is anything to go by,” Kara revealed.  
Jamie casually took a sip of her drink. “So where did they take him?”  
Kara waved her hand. “Not to where those other poor souls are, that I know. Probably to a private room, certainly not anywhere in isolation, I'd have seen the change on the charts.”  
“Did anyone tell you why he was special?” Jamie asked, hiding her shaking hands in her lap.  
Kara heaved a sigh. “They don't pass that sort of information to us grunts, we just empty the pans and mop the floors. I'm sorry he's gone, he was kinda cute, for an old guy.”  
Jamie nearly choked, Mitch would've hated to have heard that. She could imagine his expression, his face scrunching up to deliver a sarcastic rejoinder before taking himself off in a temper.   
“You okay?”  
Jamie smiled at the younger woman. “I'm fine. Just had a thought, but it's gone now.”  
Kara sighed again. “Anyway, I thought you'd be interested. I have to go now, break time is over.”  
The nurse got to her feet and left, giving Jamie a negligent wave.   
For a moment, Jamie closed her eyes and voiced a whispered “thank you,” to whoever was watching over Mitch. It seemed that Ally hadn't lied to her after all. 

X-x-x-x-x

Ally was as good as her word and sent Jamie a message that she could see Mitch in the afternoon. Directions to where he was being cared for were included in the message.   
Now she stood outside a numbered door, suddenly nervous and excited at the same time. Tamping down her disordered emotions, she turned the handle and entered the room.   
Inside was an occupied nurses station with another room beyond that.   
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, smiling pleasantly.   
“I'm Jamie Campbell. Doctor Scofield arranged...”  
“Of course, come this way, please?”  
Jamie followed the woman to the second door, which was opened wide, the nurse standing back to allow Jamie to enter first.   
“I'll leave you now, if you need anything just press the buzzer beside the bed.”  
“Thank you.” Jamie stood back as the door closed behind her.   
“Oh, Mitch.” She approached the hospital bed and stared down at the man lying there. He was once more attached to a number of machines monitoring his condition, a blood pressure cuff on one arm, a blood oxygen sensor attached to a finger, an intravenous line plugged into his wrist, more sensors attached to his temples and on his chest, and lastly an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. He still only had a sheet covering his hips, but the room was warm, and his skin was warm when she touched it.   
She pulled up a chair to sit on his right side, the one with a blood pressure cuff wrapped around it, a machine periodically pumping the cuff up to take his pressure. Jamie winced when it happened the first time, seeing it tighten around his arm. She had only experienced an automatic cuff once and she had worn the bruises for days. Since then she'd always insisted on a manual reading, which was only a little less uncomfortable.  
She threaded her fingers with his lax ones, lifting his hand, palm to palm so she could bring it to her mouth for a kiss. Keeping it there she lay the back of his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes.   
“No restraints, thank God,” she whispered, lifting her left hand to stroke the back of her fingers over his clean-shaven cheek. “Someone is taking good care of you.” She smiled at him, wishing more than anything he'd open his eyes and look at her the way she was looking at him.   
Tearing her gaze away from his face, she let her eyes roam over his torso, noting the familiar scars and poorly healed wounds. One on his left shoulder had been particularly deep, the skin deeply scored, almost mangled and she stared at it for a moment. Something was different about it, it looked less prominent, less gouged into his flesh. Her eyes tracked to his other wounds, noting that they also appeared to be less obvious, not so twisted and ridged. She used her free hand to trace her fingertips over the one gouged from his right shoulder, across his collarbone, and onto his chest. It felt softer, looked faded, incredibly it was hard to tell the scarring from his undamaged skin in places.   
“What the hell?” She placed his hand back on the bed.   
The left side of his body, front and back, had taken the worst of the attack from the Razorbacks when they obviously dragged him and savaged that area with their teeth. His back showed clearly where claws had cut deep gashes, also on his sides and legs. She checked his right calf where one such slash snaked from back to front. It had lost its angry red tinge, the line barely visible now.   
“Oh, my God!” Jamie exclaimed, one hand covering her mouth in surprise at what she was seeing.  
It appeared that whatever the mutations were doing to Mitch, it was the opposite of what had happened to Kovacs.   
Sitting back down, she could see that all the old scarring was looking less pronounced, less angry.  
“Oh Mitch, what is going on inside of you?”  
Picking up his right hand again, she cradled it in her own, bringing it up to her face to press his palm against her left cheek. “I do hope this means you're getting better. I have so much to tell you, so much news about this place, about us, about Clem and baby Sam.” She closed her eyes and just concentrated on the feel of his warm hand against her face. The machines continued their function regardless of the silent drama, beeping and recording, monitoring and alerting, irrespective of the man they were connected to, or the woman at his side.   
Jamie was thinking about what she'd tell Mitch, when her thoughts inevitably turned to the child she was carrying. Even as a picture formed in her mind of a baby with dark hair like its dad, and blue eyes like hers, the fingers she held against the left side of her face twitched. She didn't react, thinking it was probably her wishful thinking that imagined the movement. Going back to her daydreaming, she pictured herself with a belly like Clementines, large with child, Mitch stroking the taut skin, talking to his child inside her. Again the fingers against her skin twitched, this time more forcefully. She opened her eyes but nothing had changed, his chest still rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the heart and brain monitor beeped continuously, his pulse rate may have risen a notch or two, but nothing to indicate he was waking up. More importantly, his eyes were not open, with no movement discernible behind the closed lids. Putting the movement down to a simple involuntary muscle reflex, she resumed her former position, his right hand pressed against her left cheek, held there by her hand covering the back of his.   
Jamie was by no means slow, and it occurred to her that if Jackson and Abigail, both of them hybridized humans, were able to control animal behavior with their minds, as seemed to be the case, maybe Mitch had some of that ability as well.  
To test her theory she closed her eyes and brought forth the memory of the first time they made love, how intense it was, both of them almost fighting to get rid of the clothes preventing skin touching skin, of his mouth on hers, his fingers dancing over her skin, pushing into her, making her writhe, her own fingers closing around his cock, relishing the feel of velvet over steel, the brush of rough hair against her flesh. She could feel her own temperature rising at the images she replayed in her mind, her legs squeezing together. A suddenly agitated beeping made her open her eyes and stare at the heart and brain monitor, both seemed to be spiking unevenly, and even more telling was Mitch Morgan sporting a sheet-tenting hard on. Jamie stared at the obvious evidence that what she'd been thinking about had directly affected the comatose man on the bed. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself shouting out loud. Laying his hand back on the mattress, she lifted the sheet to confirm what she thought. Sure enough, her well-endowed genius was showing off some serious wood.   
Covering him up again, she sat back in the chair and stared at the man on the bed. While she remained unconnected to him and no longer thinking wicked thoughts, his erection wilted until he lay just as before – motionless.   
“Well, fuck me, who would've believed it.” Standing up, she leaned over him, lifting the oxygen mask off his face. “You are a wonderful man with something incredible happening to you. I hope you come back to me soon, I can't wait to see your reaction to what I have to tell you.” Leaning down further she covered his mouth with her own, kissing him longingly, nibbling at his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth, even dipping her tongue inside. Not expecting a reaction, she almost jumped out of her skin when his hand came up to hold her head in place, and the former lax lips started kissing her back, his tongue darting out to meet hers. After a split second of surprise, she relaxed and poured her heart into the embrace, slanting her lips across his, tangling tongues and clashing teeth. The heart and brain monitor beside the bed was ringing out loud claxon warnings, one of the digital displays showing huge spikes and dips, the pulse and heartbeat numbers steadily rising. Jamie pulled back slightly and opened her eyes, only to feel her heart sink. Mitch still had his eyes closed, his hand that she'd felt at the back of her neck, already falling back to the mattress.   
The monitors reflected the same, falling back to their regular blips now she was no longer engaging with him.   
“Ah, Mitch. I know you're in there, I guess you're just not ready to come out and play yet.” Carefully she replaced the oxygen mask after tracing a finger over his moist lips. Glancing down the length of his body, she had to smother a giggle to see he'd reacted to her actions in the same way he'd reacted to her thoughts.  
“Nice to know the important things are working well.”  
Sitting back down, she settled in to keep him company, her hand covering his where it lay palm down on the mattress. “You'll come back to me when you're ready, I know it.” Idly, she rested her other hand on her abdomen, unconsciously cradling the life within. 

X-x-x-x

Doctor Scofield and her two associates sat and watched the footage, the image overlaid with the various recording displays down the side of the screen.  
They saw and heard every word and every reaction, noting the changes in heartbeat and brain activity, pulse rate, and blood pressure.   
“I think that proves pretty conclusively that Doctor Morgan has a similar ability to Jackson Oz,” said Ally.  
One of the associates scoffed.   
“All it proves is he's sexually attuned to that young lady. As she is carrying his child, we can only conclude that situation may have a bearing on that ability.”  
“Accepted. But we've never seen anything like this in any of the test subjects to date,” Ally retorted.  
The second associate cleared his throat to get their attention.  
“This is hardly conclusive. An involuntary erection...”  
“Two..” Ally pointed out.   
“Okay. Two involuntary erections, one possibly from a purely mental stimulus, the other from an external stimulus is hardly conclusive. We need to bring him back to consciousness. He seems to be assimilating the latest mutations with few side effects, I say we advance to the next stage.”  
Ally and his associate wore similar expressions of doubt.   
“I disagree, I think we need to keep him under until the mutation is complete,” Ally advised.   
“I agree with Doctor Scofield, I feel we could be precipitous and there is no real need to wake him early, he's been taken out of the terminal schedule. There's no hurry now that he's been confirmed as a positive recipient. We have no idea how far this mutation is going to manifest itself. If we wake him and he decides to have nothing to do with the programme we lose the chance to study him.”  
“That is always a possibility, which is why the situation with Jamie Campbell is important to maintain and keep control over.”  
They looked over at their associate, but he simply shrugged. “I bow to the majority. He stays under until we're satisfied he's stable.”  
“Agreed.” 

x-x-x-x-x


	18. Waking Up Is Hard To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as it ever was (I seem to be quoting song lyrics today - Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime) Chapter title is Neil Sedaka no less (so 70's)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment or give kudos to date. You are all stars. Now, read on...

X-x-x-x-x-x

Countdown – Day Two of Five - addendum.

Mitch was dreaming. That was nothing unusual, everybody dreams. His dream started when he saw Jamie, somehow she was a big as a house, heavy with child, his child. He could see himself stroking his hands over her hugely distended belly, but it in no way disgusted him, he adored that belly, loved it, thought it the moon to his stars. He couldn't love that bump any more than he did, it was the center of his world. He reached out and the image was suddenly gone.  
Time was meaningless, his mind simply existing, not thinking about anything, just keeping things ticking over – Heart beating? Check. Lungs breathing? Check again. All other bodily functions operating as expected? Check.  
A new dream started to form, this one an old favorite, of him and Jamie making love for the first time, of giving in to the impulse to join flesh within sweaty flesh, his mouth mapping each and every freckle he could fine while his busy fingers explored tender flesh, preparing the way. He could feel the heat between them, the sweet taste of tongue against velvet lips, the beating pulse beneath the skin, it was all there. But like before, it was suddenly whisked away.  
Briefly, he thought he was kissing her, her lips sweet against his, but all too soon that was gone, like everything else.  
He drifted, hearing people enter and leave whatever space he occupied, the rhythmic beating of his heart echoed by the machines beside him, their beeping muted and distant, fighting a losing battle against the roaring of waves or maybe the wind ever present in his ears. 

 

Countdown: Day Three of Five - Jamie 

Her sleep had been both troubled and deep, strange dreams, fragments of images haunting her, waking her until she decided to stay up and work on her Plan B.  
The visit the previous day with Mitch had been lovely, but frustrating. She wanted to talk to him, see his eyes as they talked, see his expressive face when they argued a point, listen to him lecture as he often did, sometimes without really realizing it.  
After an hour going over her copious notes, she decided to take a break. Despite the early hour, she found the food hall open and grabbed something to go. Carrying it with her, she quietly entered Mitch's hospital room and sat down. He looked the same as before, the nurse mentioning in passing that he passed a trouble free night.  
He just hadn't woken up.  
With her breakfast quickly consumed, she pulled the chair closer to the bed and picked up his right hand. Absently she smoothed over the faint line that she had stitched at the base of his thumb, the injury almost invisible to anyone not knowing where to look. It was another example of his's bodies ability to heal itself at an accelerated pace.  
“Hello, Mitch. After yesterday's reactions, I thought I'd bring you up to speed on what happened to you, why you're like this, okay?”  
Like the previous afternoon, she held his hand up against her left cheek so his palm was cradling her face, her own left hand holding it in place.  
Now she closed her eyes and remembered back to when the convoy was forced to cross the damaged bridge one at a time, Mitch deciding to go down to the river below to get a sample. She tried to bring to mind every detail of that day and the days following, right up to when he was admitted to his current room. She had to concentrate hard to keep her thoughts from jumping back and forth, the effort quite exhausting. Once or twice she felt his fingers move against her skin, not the jerky movements of the day before, but almost like stroking. When she was finished with her mental narrative, she kissed the palm and laid it back on the mattress.  
“That's pretty much it for now. I'll tell you more when I visit this afternoon.” She got up to lean over him, pulling the oxygen mask away to allow her to place a kiss on his lips. This was a chaste echo of the one she gave him yesterday, but it seemed appropriate, to her. 

Countdown: Day Three of Five - Mitch

Sometime later, it could have been minutes or years he couldn't tell, he was seeing images of himself, of the convoy, stuck before a crumbling bridge, each vehicle taking its turn to cross. The view switched to a river running under the same bridge, and himself reaching down to take a sample. Dreaming as he was, the images tended to jump around a little as well as flash between color and sepia, one color usually standing out before the images moved onwards. It was like watching a travel log, without a backing track or voice over.  
He saw himself stretched out, eyes closed, in the back of the Unimog, Jamie leaning over him. Was he dead? Did he just hurt himself? Nothing was explained. He had a flash of imagery where he was looking at Jamie with a fierceness that he couldn't understand. Was he angry at her? She left him, a faceless IADG soldier replacing her for the rest of the journey. Was she afraid of him? He didn't linger on those thoughts, just watched as the convoy reached its destination and he was unloaded in front of a towering glass frontage. Then it all faded and he only got snapshots of what followed. His body lying in a bed hooked up to everything imaginable. Himself now in an empty room, naked and strapped to a bed, Jamie's face blurred through a window. After that, there was only the image he'd seen before, of himself lying in a hospital room connected up to every medical gizmo available. He briefly felt the touch of warm lips on his own then it was gone. He thought he heard something and strained to make it out, but the waves drowned out everything but the insistent beep of the machines around him. 

He was rather liking seeing himself through somebody else's eyes and wanted them to continue, his mouth working to call out, bring them back. Laying inert was starting to bug him and he struggled to surface from the deep ocean he floundered in. With every attempt a little more light appeared, until eventually, he was able to prise his eyelids up, only to have them fall shut again, much to his annoyance. Enough of this shit, he wanted to open his eyes!  
Pouring every tiny bit of effort into the simple action, he managed to lift his eyelids a fraction, even better they stayed open, allowing him to peer out at the world around him. Without his glasses, it was perforce a world out of focus. Swearing loudly in his head, he worked to lift his hand and inspect that closely instead. Shakily, but surely his hand swum into focus, a surge of triumph at that tiny task making him work on opening his eyes wider. He felt it was like the last time he went to have a dental procedure, and his mouth was numbed. Feeling and sensation eventually returned but so slowly you almost couldn't measure it.  
Satisfied that his eyes worked as normal, he tested out other reflexes, his toes? Check. Knees? Bending nicely. He pulled in his stomach, no change there, sucked in a deep breath, that's working fine, tried to lift his head?...nope, too soon. Everything he tested seemed to him to be huge movements, but in actuality, they were tiny twitches and small wiggles.  
Exhausted by even that minuscule effort he let his eyes close and drifted off, giving in the continual sound of the waves crashing on some beach he couldn't remember. 

X-x-x-x-x

Abe found her sitting at a table in front of the window in the food hall, her lunch largely ignored, her gaze fixed on something beyond the thick glass.  
“Jamie?”  
She thought she heard her name and turned her head.  
“Oh. Abe, I was miles away. Sorry. Want to sit down?”  
He took the seat opposite, his gaze assessing her.  
“You are alright?”  
Jamie nodded, “I'm fine, just thinking.”  
Abe smiled. “About?”  
Jamie shrugged and picked up her neglected drink. “This and that. Mitch, the people here, you know...stuff.”  
Abe nodded. “There are a lot of people here. You haven't explored much beyond this building, have you?”  
She shook her head. “I've been kind of busy just settling in, seeing Mitch...until things resolve themselves with him I'm not much in the mood for sightseeing.”  
Abe watched her for a moment, his expression pensive. “You know that if there was anything...”  
Jamie smiled. “I know. I saw Dariela yesterday, she told me you are close to a cure?”  
He sat back in his chair, a satisfied look crossing his face. “We are. Did she also tell you we are going to try for another child?”  
“She did. I'm pleased for you both. Apparently, Tessa and Jackson are doing the same?”  
“Rafiki is still coming to terms with having a grown-up son, and now a grandson, but I think he is ready to be a father again. I know I am. If the cure is as effective as we hope, then anyone who wants to get pregnant will only need a single injection and the effects of the Sherperds gas will be reversed. Do you want to know how?”  
Jamie waved her hand dismissively. “I'm just happy to know it will work. I have enough difficulty keeping up with Mitch and his jargon, anything you say will go right over my head.”  
Abe gave a small laugh. “Oh, I don't think you would have any difficulty, but we'll leave that for now.”  
Jamie had noticed his eyes harden, narrowing on her. She kept her expression open and smiling, guileless and unaware. She turned her attention to her lunch and precluded any speaking by filling her mouth with food.  
“Good to see you eating something more substantial,” Abe commented, Jamie, looking down at her plate of chicken salad and wondered if he knew something he shouldn't. When she swallowed her mouthful she sent him a wry look.  
“Had a restless night and was up early this morning. Worked up quite an appetite.”  
“We'll have to arrange a time we can all have a meal together,” Abe suggested, rising to his feet.  
Jamie smiled up at him. “That would be great. Send me a note when you organize something. I'm pretty much free anytime.”  
“Take care of yourself, Jamie,” Abe said in parting, walking away from her table and disappearing into a crowd entering the food hall. 

X-x-x-x-x

Her afternoon visit with Mitch was taken up with her telling him about her backup plan. It took her some time to lay out what she was going to do. At one point, when she related her initial encounter with Mike, then later her ruse with Doctor Adams, the medical equipment displayed a fair amount of agitation, Mitch's fingers flexing restlessly against her cheek. Mentally, she scolded him for being a worry wart. She was perfectly able to take care of herself, and no man was a match for Jamie Campbell on a quest, he should know that! She told him about her hunting trip scheduled for later, and what she hoped to achieve. As a parting shot, she reminded him how much she loved him, how much he loved her and how she wished he'd come back to her soon.

X-x-x-x-x

Mike was waiting for her when she appeared at the garage, dressed for an outing on the town. She wore her knee-high boots, jeans, long-sleeved top and green jacket. She also carried a backpack that had a hat, gloves, her pistol, ammo and a few other essentials.  
“Glad to see you know how to dress!” said Mike. “Wasn't sure, ya know?”  
“Not my first rodeo, Mike.”  
He walked over to a vehicle similar in purpose to their Unimog, only a bit lighter on the armor and patted it affectionally.  
“This is ours for the night.”  
“Sweet ride!” Jamie exclaimed. “Do I get to drive?”  
Mike laughed. “Nope. You get to ride shotgun, without the gun.”  
Jamie pouted for effect and flounced around the back of the vehicle to approach the passenger side. Somehow she had to balance appearing like a flirt, with keeping a sharp eye on everything that happened.  
“How long are we going to be out for?” she asked, doing up her seat belt. Mike glanced over at her.  
“Why, you got a date to go to?”  
Jamie laughed. “Jealous already? No, I don't have a date, but if you're going to take me out for hours, I'll need a snack.”  
Mike grinned. “I'll have you out and back in a couple of hours, don't worry.”  
Jamie grinned back. “What do I have to worry about, I'm with you?”  
Mike started the truck and tooled it out of the garage, down an exit road that joined up with the main road leading out of the airport.  
“We're picking up a couple of guys along the way,” Mike told her.  
“I'm not into threesomes,” Jamie informed him, her voice no longer playful.  
Mike coughed and actually blushed. “Christ, that's not what I meant. We go hunting together, that's all. Jeezus.”  
Jamie tossed her head. “That's alright then, as long as we understand each other. What are we going to be hunting? Any chance we can stop at a department store?”

The two guys looked ordinary, one older, one younger than Mike. They both carried gun bags and dumped them in the back before strapping in. Mike made the introductions, but neither seemed very interested in her and she felt a little less wary.  
The approached the bridge and pulled up to where a soldier flagged them down.  
“Going out on a hunt,” Mike announced to the guard while leaning on his elbow and hanging out the driver's window. “Got any special request?”  
The guard seemed to think for a moment then shook his head. “Slim pickings out there these days. See what you can find. You know what I like.”  
Mike flashed him a grin. “I guess I do.”  
The soldier waved them through, Jamie watching the reverse of what happened when they arrived, their departed on the other side only delayed when Mike asked the same question he'd asked the other guard.  
When the chitchat was over the truck rolled down the street, away from the bridge and towards the city center.

The hunt was officially on. 

X-x-x-x-x

“Hey, Genius? Jamie again. Thought I'd come and see you before I went to bed, wish you were coming with me, but that'll happen, I know it.” Jamie concentrated on the events of the past few hours, her lips twisting with the effort of mentally sorting through what she wanted to show him, and what she didn't. She wanted him to see enough, but not worry.  
In her mind, she couched it like a conversation, as if she was telling a story.

“I didn't want you to fret over me going into the city with Mike and the boys. Yes, there was more than one. No, they didn't try any funny business, and I took my pistol just in case. Getting in and out of this place is surprisingly easy. I suppose with what's waiting for us beyond the island, who would want to go out there? We used a well-traveled road...I know it was well traveled because all the obstacles were pushed to the side and the rubbish along with it. A lot of the roads are just choked with over-grown weeds, abandoned cars, and rubbish. If the residents came back tomorrow, they would hardly recognize their city. But I digress. We were supposed to be looking for something to hunt, Mike was a bit thin on details, but from what he described they tried to get a Razorback if possible, or a smaller variety which I can only describe as a Ratdog hybrid because it scurries along like a rat, but is the size of a Greyhound. They even climb walls, so God knows what Abigail put into that DNA mix. It wasn't dark yet, so we drove slowly down one of the avenues until Mike took us offroad into what used to be a golf course, again following a well-cleared track. By now the boys in the back had their guns out and I thought they were going to be shooting from the car, but that wasn't the case. We drove up to the old club rooms and parked, getting out and heading inside. Because this wasn't their first hunt, they had a sweet set up off the back deck of the club room, high enough up to keep the area clear of the prey while giving a great view of the wilderness all around. They hadn't given me a gun, so I just watched. The area in front of the club rooms was mostly long grass and few trees. Soon enough a creature appeared, I'm guessing a deer of some sort from the way it moved. Nothing like the ones we saw before but pretty normal, from what I could see. It was a small herd, and they were nervous, flicking their ears all the time. I expected the guys to start firing but they waited, then I saw what they were waiting for. A predator appeared, a Razorback variation, from the looks of it. The animal stalked the herd, but they were already spooked and took off. Then the guys started firing. I have no idea who actually hit the hybrid, but it went down, then got up again and kept on running, this time towards us. Mike I think took the kill shot, but it was almost upon us when he did. The boys were just going to collect the body when more Razorback's appeared. I was still up on the deck, so had a grandstand view. The men started to draw back, leaving the dead body behind, while the hybrids came only far enough to collect their dead pack member and drag it away. All the time they kept the men in their eyeshot. One of the other guys lifted his rifle but instantly all the Razorbacks looked his way, snarling and he quickly lowered his gun. Once they reached the brush they were gone. At the last moment, I'd swear one of them looked straight at me before turning his back and disappearing into the shadows.  
The boys were swearing their heads off at having missed getting the prize, but I'm quite glad. I have a feeling if we had taken the body we wouldn't have it for long, we certainly would have been ambushed before we got back to the island.  
After that, we stopped off at a food distribution warehouse and gathered stuff for the guards on the bridge. We were back over the bridge before the sun fully set, and they dropped me off at the entrance to the airport terminal. And here I am, not a single scratch on me.”

Jamie removed Mitch's hand from her cheek and lay it back down on the bed, then opened her eyes, staring down at her boots for a moment. When she raised her eyes they met his, heavy-lidded and only half open, but it was him, conscious and looking at her.  
“Mitch?” she whispered, a smile stretching her lips wide. “Mitch!” Standing up she leaned over him, his eyes following her move until she was looking down at him, his eyes widening a bit as he looked up at her. Gently she removed the oxygen mask, smoothing a thumb over the red marks left by the plastic edge and elastic.  
“Hello sleepy head, you've come back to me at last.” She couldn't stop smiling, her gaze roaming over his features, fingers smoothing over brow and forehead, sweeping his hair back.  
“Did you enjoy me telling you my adventures? That's quite a unique talent you have for mind reading, beautiful man. Shame it only goes one way, but now you're awake we can work on that.”  
She couldn't stop touching him, her lips joining her fingertips, kissing him with butterfly pecks softly all over his face, his jaw, even his eyelids, his eyes opening immediately after and meeting hers.  
“You know you can blink now and again,” she teased, watching as his lashes swept down then rose again, revealing his brandy brown intense stare.  
She saw his throat work and she figured he was dry.  
“I'm just going to get you a drink to moisten your mouth.” There was no jug or glass in the room so she rang for the nurse, who came quickly. “He's awake, can we have some water?”  
The nurse nodded and left the room, returning within minutes with a jug, glass, and straw on a tray. While Jamie arranged the water, the nurse raised the bed so Mitch was sitting nearly upright.  
“Here you go, just a sip for starters.” Jamie held the straw to his lips and he drew up a small amount of water. The nurse left the room, and Jamie supposed she would tell anyone who needed to know that Mitch was at long last awake. The blood pressure cuff chose that moment to inflate and Mitch grimaced as it tightened. Jamie quickly undid the cuff and left it to hang off the machine.  
“Never did like those things,” she muttered. Mitch looked relieved and managed the smallest of smiles, a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth, but she saw it. She remained standing near to him, keeping herself within his focal depth of field, cursing herself for not thinking of bringing his glasses. Mitch immediately shook his head, brows pulled together in a frown.  
Jamie stared at him, a little surprised. “You understood what I just thought, about your glasses?”  
He nodded and she beamed at him. “Wow, I thought we had to be touching...maybe that long distance thing the Lions had going on is working for us too!”  
Mitch swallowed again and she presented the straw for him to take a drink. When he'd had enough he purposely looked down her body then back up, meeting her eyes with a question in his. Jamie bit her lip. She nodded, and his eyes closed for a moment. When they opened again there was no denying the love and warmth in them.  
“I'm happy too. I never expected...” Jamie felt a lump rise up and choke her, emotions getting the better of her. Mitch saw her eyes moisten and he drew his brows together, sending out such a powerful expression of comfort and love that she almost staggered under the force of it.  
“Woah, Mitch, that's pretty potent. I love you too, but you might need to temper that on anyone else but me.” She smiled to take the sting out of her chiding. Mitch just relaxed his face and managed a half smile of his smug best. Jamie laughed and kissed him.  
The nurse returned with several people in tow.  
“We need to assess Mr. Morgan. If you'll just wait outside while we do that?” One of the doctors asked. Jamie turned back to Mitch.  
“I'll just be outside. Behave for these nice people, they'll let you go sooner if you do.”  
Mitch let out a sigh and closed his eyes.  
“I'll see you soon.”  
Once more she had the feeling of walking on air, her joy at having him back with her almost palpable. Seating herself on the only other chair in the nurse's station, she prepared to wait until the experts were done, then she intended to stay with Mitch for however long it took.

Maybe now she could abandon the countdown and shelve Plan B for the time being. She couldn't wait to see the look on the Team's face when Mitch was up and about and able to be there when she imparted her astounding news about the life inside her. 

Wouldn't that just put the cat amongst the pigeons? 

x-x-x-x-x-x


	19. Ahead Of The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place immediately after the last one....pretty much the same as every other chapter, I think. Not mine, no money made, promise to be kind to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another nice interlude before we pick up the pace, plus a bit of a heads up about the bigger picture at play. Might have to look at creating a second book. This one is turning into a whale of a tale.

x-x-x-x-x

The Same day, different place.

In a surveillance room, on the security floor of the former airport, sitting in the dark with only the monitors to provide illumination, two people were discussing the awakening of Mitchell Morgan ahead of schedule. On one of the screens was an image of that very same man. Neither of the people discussing him were Alexandra Scofield.

“I thought we were keeping him under?”  
“We were, but apparently Doctor Morgan is working to his own agenda.”  
“Any manifestation of the former aggression?  
“None. I can only assume he has mutated past that phase.”  
“Interesting. None of the former subjects were able to.”  
“No, but then he is something special.”  
“True. It just concerns me what the girl has told him.”  
“I can't see that is much of a concern. She hasn't done anything in the days she's been here.”  
“That's where you're wrong. She's been rather busy, surprisingly.”  
“Busy? How?”  
“Apart from reuniting with her former teammates, she appears to have made contact with one of the nurses, a member of staff and a garage mechanic, roughly in that order.”  
“And how is that relevant?”  
“I don't think our Miss Campbell is just a journalist. I think she is a very resourceful young lady.”  
“Still, with her partner only just recovering from an extraordinary experience, her team all happily occupied here and the world beyond devolving into anarchy, where is she likely to want to be?  
“I'm just saying I would keep a closer eye on her than we have been.”  
“What can one insignificant woman do to all this?”  
“The name Abigail Westbrook comes to mind!”  
“That was a mistake. We underestimated Robert Oz and his own plan for humanity and the planet.”  
“It was a mistake that almost cost us all our lives, our future. The last ten years have had to be devoted to just curing the current crisis, let alone advancing the original plan.”  
“The end result will be the same. Once the hybrids reach the east coast and wreak their havoc upon what remains of the population, this entire continent will be given over to them, America will become off-limits to the rest of the world. What is left of the population, and that will only be isolated pockets, will be reduced to scratching out an existence once all resources are consumed, and exhausted. The corporate and political mechanisms will be destroyed, those that escape to Europe will have nothing to govern, nothing to rule and no basis of power. America will be nothing more than a science experiment gone wrong.”  
“When you put it like that, what're ten years – here or there.”  
“We already have our plans in place. Once we have the cure stabilized, and proof that it works one hundred percent, it's just a matter of taking it to the rest of the world.”  
“Slow boat to China?”  
“Exactly. We'll be welcomed with open arms, we can ask whatever price we can imagine. What remains of the population of Earth will have to reorganize themselves without America in the mix, and what comes out of that will see the emergence of a new civilization, a new generation hopefully ready to build and embrace a new way of doing things.”  
“Off with the old, on with the new. It was always an ambitious plan, needing a long head and far-reaching goals, but it might just be within our reach.”  
“Quite. And a lone female, regardless of her own cleverness, is hardly likely to put a spanner in the works at this stage.”  
“True. You make a persuasive argument. In the meantime, I suggest we implant Doctor Morgan with a tracker and step up the surveillance until everyone is happy they are both onboard with the project.”  
“Agreed. Make sure their apartment is fully covered and online, I don't want anything missed.”

x-x-x-x-x 

In the handful of days that followed, Mitch made astounding progress in his recovery. Jamie awoke the morning after her personal deadline passed and wept into her pillow from sheer relief. Whatever happened now or in the future, Mitch would be with her.

Jamie had stayed at his bedside every day since he woke up, keeping him company and telling him all about the place they found themselves living in. She was getting better at being a transmitter, as she called herself. It took a great deal of concentration, and she often simply thought in pictures rather than words, Mitch responding with impressions of emotions instead of words. It was an odd way to communicate but it worked, for them. 

Both of them had been slated for a barrage of testing. Jamie had her first ultrasound to check her child's development. The image on the screen was clear, but largely a mystery to her. Doctor Scofield tried to point out salient areas and what they meant, but it was all blobs of light and dark and grainy footage for the most part. She gave an ocean of blood samples, had her arm pumped up for blood pressure more times than she cared to remember, and gave samples of her pee to round things out. She was given supplements to take and told to report any unusual symptoms. Given how early they were, Ally recommended that apart from Mitch, not to tell anyone else. The probability of miscarriage, given her history, was still a real threat. Jamie listened but largely dismissed those warnings. The last time she was pregnant she'd been scared out of her mind, anxious in the extreme, and not eating properly, or taking anything to help. Now she was being informed about rest, exercise, diet, liquids until she wanted to scream at the overly protective doctor to just shut up and let her, Jamie Campbell, get on with things. 

While she endured, Mitch had his own demons to fight off. As his lucid moments stretched out, he was never given a moments peace. Nurses were always coming in to take a reading of that, change something on the bed, get him out of bed to the bathroom, shave him, feed him, stay with him when he managed to stand long enough to shower and pee by himself - he was never, ever alone. Only when Jamie visited did the nursing staff retire to their corners and leave him be. He never tired of having Jamie there, she brought in light, and freshness, her mental images bringing him a relief from the boring room with its white walls and concealed lighting. She had brought him his glasses after he 'woke up', so everything was back in focus, although with their recent mental developments being able to see was almost redundant - almost. He never tired of her expressive face, even when she was sending him information or images and had her eyes closed, her face still reflected the effort and emotions, to his constant delight. 

Mitch had never thought of himself as the least bit poetic, but Jamie made him want to be able to quote something outrageous, deep and heartfelt from one of the romantic poets, maybe Byron or Marlowe. He'd only ever touched on the subject during his education, being more inclined towards the sciences rather than the arts. Now he wished he had a wider vocabulary to express himself. 

With the increase in activity, he was taken off most of his previous monitors and aids. He no longer needed the oxygen or extra fluids, the sensors had been removed from everywhere except his temples, he no longer had to endure the blood pressure machine and could now get himself out of bed to the bathroom and back. His conversations with the staff took on a resemblance to a one-note samba – when could he get out of there?

X-x-x-x-x

On the fourth day after he woke up, he was literally up and out of the hospital room. Jamie had been informed she could take him back to their apartment to continue his recovery, so she brought him his clothes, waited for him to dress, then they walked out of the hospital wing – free at last. Mitch was thinner, but he looked healthier from the ongoing effects of the hybridization. He also looked younger, something Jamie teased him about, but he was secretly very pleased about. When he saw the reflection of them walking past a former shop window, they looked to be of a similar age, not how he'd seen himself before, as a middle-aged man poaching a much younger woman. He knew that Jamie had never seen him that way, but it wasn't her perception that was the problem. It was all his. The walk to their apartment was perforce slow, firstly because there was simply no need to hurry, no threat, no deadline, nowhere they needed to be at a certain time, and secondly because he was still getting his sea legs back after spending so long in bed. The lack of a threat felt strange and unusual and not at all like their usual life. He projected that to Jamie and she squeezed his arm in understanding. He was adapting to this silent form of communications remarkably well. He could talk, he just chose sometimes not to. 

“Here we are,” Jamie announced, stopping in front of a nondescript door with only a number to distinguish it from the others. She let go of his arm and swiped the door card. Inside she shut the door behind him and let him take his time exploring their living space.   
“Nice.” He commented, entering the bedroom and poking his head into the bathroom. “Sweet. A shower big enough for two.”  
Jamie instantly felt a wave of pure lust and want sweep over her and she gasped as her body responded, nipples peaking, her skin suddenly sensitized all over.   
“Oh, my God, you had better only use that on me! Holy fuck, that feels good!” She started to unbutton her blouse, kicking off her shoes as she padded over to him.  
Mitch was doing the same, toeing off his footwear and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Jamie reached him and ran the flat of her hands over his chest, marveling at the current state of his formerly scarred torso.  
“That is amazing,” she breathed. “You'd hardly know...”  
Another wave of feeling swept through her, her mouth opening even as her eyes slid shut. Mitch caught her to him, his mouth sliding over hers in the kiss of a man too long deprived. He walked them backward until they fell on the bed, his fingers finding the clasp of her bra and releasing it before flinging it off to the side. Jamie was fumbling at his trouser zip, her tongue tangled with his as he did the same for her. Minutes later and they were skin to skin, hands, and fingers rediscovering territory and mapping out each other.   
Mitch worshipped her, his hands spread over her back to keep her melded to him, his mouth busy about her neck down to her breasts, drawing out moans and whimpers as he plundered and suckled.   
Her hands weren't idle, one buried deep in his hair, holding him to her chest as he devoured her flesh, her back arching to push more of her breast into his mouth, her other hand clutching the edge of the headboard behind her, her head digging back into the pillows.   
Mitch surged up her body, impatient to lose himself inside her, his thighs spreading hers wide before plunging into her body, both of them groaning with the sheer pleasure of it. Jamie found herself swamped with not only her own feelings but also his, the intensity ramped higher as he lost himself in the act of them joined together, her legs encasing his hips, urging him on, uncaring of the noise coming from them both. Mitch growled, loudly, his teeth nipping at her neck while his hips ground against her, Jamie wrapping her arms about his neck and riding out his forceful possession, her head thrown back to expose the tendons in her neck, immediately mouthed by her lover.   
In a conflagration of movement, Jamie cried out and shook as her release overwhelmed her, Mitch biting down on her shoulder as he worked his hips a few seconds more, shuddering with the force of his climax, both panting in the aftermath, glued together by sweat and sex.   
Long minutes later, Mitch pulled out of her and moved down the bed to bring his head close to her belly, his hands either side of her waist while his mouth pressed kisses to the soft, salty skin.  
Jamie lay there with her eyes shut, her fingers reaching down to comb through his damp hair, her body flushed and boneless. Contentment and a fierce protectiveness flowed from her lover as he held her, his face against her womb, his fingers stroking the sides of her ribs.  
Mitch lifted his head to look up at her, his eyes dark, heavy-lidded. “I wish I could climb under your skin.”  
Jamie chuckled. “I think you damn near did.”  
Mitch grinned. “Do you think we can just stay here and not get out of bed?”  
Jamie lifted her head to look at him, then let it drop back to the pillows. “I think we deserve to, don't you?”  
He pressed one last kiss to her belly then crawled his way to the head of the bed, collapsing beside her. “I think we deserve a whole lot of things, not least spending a shit-load of time having fantastic sex together. Something about knowing you're pregnant makes me just want to fuck you even more.”  
Jamie turned her head to look at him. “Not exactly romantic, but I know what you mean. I've been in a permanent state of horny since we started this whole communicating without words, thing. Just as well they let you out early, I would have been reduced to fucking you in that narrow hospital bed, otherwise.”  
Mitch laughed, the sound a rumble in his chest. “They probably had me under surveillance, so that would have been one to pass around the security team.”  
Jamie grinned. “I mean what I said before, if you send out those thoughts and feelings you had before we started all this, you're going to end up inflaming every female to jump your bones that you look at.”  
Mitch waggled his eyebrows, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he returned her grin. “And that's a problem why?” he teased.   
Jamie arched one of her brows. “Because then I'll have to lock you up in here and spend my time wearing you out. Either that or kill any woman that so much as looks at you.”  
“I prefer option one, less messy,” Mitch murmured, finding her hand and lacing his fingers with hers.   
“Good. Having to hide all those bodies would have been difficult in an apartment this size.”  
Mitch squeezed her fingers. “How about we just stay here today and catch up with the rest of the Team tomorrow?”  
Jamie stretched and then rolled onto her side to face him. “Hey, you set the pace here. Ally said to hold off telling anyone about me being pregnant until we get past the first trimester, and I agree with her. What do you think?”  
Again that intense feeling of fierce protectiveness suffused her mind. Mitch brought their interlaced hand up to his mouth and kissed her fingers.   
“If I had my way I'd keep you closeted here and never let you out. Do you know you smell delicious, like the sweetest of exotic perfumes? You're giving it off in waves and I want to just...”  
“Eat me?” Jamie interrupted. “It's the same for me. You smell so good, I just want to breathe you in. I wonder if it's to do with your new biology? Maybe you're giving off some sort of pheromone. Whatever it is I can't get enough.”  
“Me neither,” Mitch growled softly, reaching over to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Within seconds they were entwined together, legs and arms and body wrapped around each other with no space between them. If they had become one entity they couldn't be closer, Jamie mewing when Mitch drew away from her only to place open mouth kisses along her jaw to her ear.   
Heat bloomed everywhere they touched, Jamie sure she was being consumed by his fire, her body shifting and stretching to press more of herself to him. Within this writhing dance, his body once more buried itself inside her, wringing a gasp from her and a moan from him. This time it was a slow tangle, a small push and pull back, on constant repeat, his body buried balls deep in hers. The movements became incrementally tortuous as each writhed against the other, feet and toes digging into the mattress to provide leverage, hands gripping so tight to keep that delicious pressure against the other. When she started to shudder and squeeze him, he surged into her one last time, then they truly became a single entity, a sole creature born of need, and want and love. 

Entwined and inseparable, they slept.

X-x-x-x-x

They decided to do the big reveal in the apartment. 

In the two days since Mitch had left the hospital wing, they had talked, made love, eaten, made love, talked again, made mad passionate love and finally decided it was time. Time to bring the team onboard. Mitch was keen to catch up with his daughter, his grandson and what everyone else had been doing. He was also keen to see their faces when he did his Lazarus routine for the second time. Jamie wasn't aware of how much her worries had leached into her thoughts, how her anxiety over the other team member's behavior had caused her to doubt herself, and fear for Mitch. Her thoughts had also conveyed how much she'd taken on and was prepared to give up on his behalf. It just made him love her, and want to protect her all the more.   
They had long discussions about how much to disclose about his new talent, Mitch insisting that it be kept secret, for the time being, the skill giving him an edge that he was keen to keep. Jamie was happy to oblige, after all, it was his thing, not hers. She was just glad to have him at her side again.   
They hadn't tested his range yet, and he wasn't sure how he'd cope with a group situation. So far he'd proven he could focus on one person to the exclusion of others, but he hadn't really tested his ability to screen out thoughts and emotions in a communal setting. That was the main reason they were going to do the big reveal of Mitch back from the dead in the apartment. He would stay in the bedroom and test out his ability on their teammates before appearing before them. Knowing that Jackson had a similar talent from a common source was part of the unknown. Would Jackson be able to sense Mitch? Could Mitch sense Jackson without him being aware of the intrusion?  
Mitch knew from the time he'd spent with Jamie that if he really wanted to, with some serious concentration, he could 'listen' to her thoughts, even when she was asleep and unaware of what he was doing. Because of their relationship he didn't think of it as intruding on her privacy, it was more that he got to share parts of her that nobody else ever would. When he realized what he was doing he told her, her reaction one of acceptance, lifting one shoulder in reply and 'transmitting' a wave of love his way.

Now he sat on the edge of the bed and button up one of his shirts. He heard a distant knock at the apartment door and got to his feet. Closing his eyes he let his mind reach out. At once he got a jumble of feedback, his brain taking a few moments to sort out who was who. Clem was there, along with the baby, so was Abe and Dariela, Jackson and Tessa just entering now. He reached out, testing his limits and was able to separate out the different thoughts quite easily. It was similar to seeing a person's aura, distinguishing their specific color range, unique to them, and interpreting it.   
Clementine was all sunshine and apricot, warmth and pride in her child. The baby was like a watered down version of his mother, his thoughts unformed, just pure emotion. He was happy.   
Abe was a darker spectrum, deep greens, and blues, his thoughts wary and cautious. Dariela was a mixture of mauve and cream shades, her thoughts centered on the baby and her own child, Isaac. Tessa was giving off sparks of red and pale orange, her thoughts centered on Jackson, she was worried about something, while Jackson – Jackson was throwing off feelings of surprise, suspicion, his colors bordering on grey and dark blues. Mitch wondered what his aura was, intrigued that his brain was able to interpret the colors and the emotions they represented.   
He turned his attention to Jamie, seeing her colors as a swirl of spring green and sky blue, a lighter thread spiraling through to represent the life inside her. Her thoughts were suppressed excitement, with pleasure and trepidation mixed in. 

“So, Jamie, you have us all here, what's the big occasion?” Jackson asked, sitting in one of the easy chairs, his back to the window.   
Jamie had been having a cuddle with baby Sam, Clem in close attendance. Hearing Jackson, she handed the baby back and faced them all.  
“Um...well, several things. For one, it's been a couple of weeks since I arrived here, and we haven't really had a chance to sit down and discuss much. I know you all have your separate areas of interest, so I thought we could all get together and catch up. Abe had suggested some time ago having a meal together, and I'm all for that, so why don't we arrange something?”  
She didn't know why she was nervous, her palms starting to sweat. Instantly she felt a roil of assurance seep into her, Mitch reaching out and giving her confidence. Smiling brightly she continued.   
“But the main reason I asked you all to come was to give you all a surprise. You're aware that an important date came and went several days ago, and if it had come about the way it was originally planned, I would be in a quite different state of mind. None of you have asked about it, so I'm assuming you think that what's done is done. That isn't the case.”  
Behind her back, the door to the bedroom opened and a warm hand landed on her shoulder.   
“Hey guys, what did I miss?”  
She was facing the room and saw all the different reactions. Clem looked shocked, then quickly lay baby Sam down to run over and throw her arms about her father. She was crying and thumping him on the back with her fists. Abe and Dariela wore similar open-mouthed expressions of surprise, while Jackson stood up, his expression wry. Tess just looked dumbfounded.   
“So you cheated death again?” Jackson said, smiling broadly. “You'll have to pass on your secret sometime, Mitch.”  
Abe was also on his feet, his hands spread wide. “How did you manage this? We all thought...”  
Mitch carefully disentangled himself from his daughter, using his thumb to wipe the few tears from her face.  
“Yeah, well, when did I ever do what people expected.” He opened his arms wide and beamed. Jackson closing the small distance between them to give his friend a hug, Jackson looking over at Jamie, his eyebrows raised in a question. Jamie just folded her arms across her chest and looked smug.   
“Why didn't you tell us?” Clem asked her, giving her a hug for good measure.   
Jamie shrugged. “It was touch and go for awhile. I didn't want to get your hopes up.”  
Abe followed Jackson in hugging Mitch, then Dariela and Tessa, all of them firing questions at Mitch, none of them getting more than a throwaway quip in reply.   
“Yes, the diagnosis was not the best when they admitted me.”  
“No, I had been infected by the spore, that's a fact.”  
“Yes, I've been given a clean bill of health.”  
“No, I have no idea what I'm going to do now.”  
Eventually, everyone calmed down, baby Sam letting the room know he was ready for a feed. Jamie took Clem into the bedroom to give her some peace and privacy, leaving the door open so she could hear the conversation in the lounge.   
Mitch held out his hand to Jamie when she returned, the pair taking over one of the easy chairs, Jamie sitting on Mitch's lap, the pose so intimate there was no mistaking that their relationship had moved forward in leaps and bounds. Abe and Dariela took the remaining chairs while Jackson and Tessa sat on the floor with their backs to the window.   
“Jamie tells me you are experimenting with your special abilities, Jackson. How's that coming along?”  
“I'd rather hear how you managed to avoid the common solution to someone infected with the hybrid spore – termination.” Jackson retorted.   
Mitch smiled, exchanging a look with Jamie. “Well. It seems that I have a brain worth saving. I don't have all the details yet, but they pumped me full of whatever they could lay their hands on and it did the trick.”  
Abe spoke up. “A spore infection is a terminal condition, there is no recovery. Either you die shitting your guts out, or get shot because you turn out like Kovacs.”  
Tessa made a face at Abe's words. “What does it matter? Mitch is alive and well.”  
“Well said, Tessa,” Jamie added quietly.   
Abe sat forward, his narrow brows drawn together. “It's important because if there is a cure then more people have a chance to survive the infection. If we want to ever leave this place and reclaim somewhere to live in this land, we have to find a cure for the spore.”  
“I vote we go to Europe,” Mitch interjected. Jamie shook her head at him.  
“Remember, the planes are grounded?” she told him  
“Probably only a temporary state of affairs. Europe and Asia cleared out their hybrid nests, so there's no reason to suppose they won't be back producing aviation fuel, if not already.” Mitch fired back. “Plus the military airforce have their own fuel depots all over the place.”  
“We're supposing there are no more nests. But back to you...” Jackson started to say.  
“Look. If you want to know more, go ask the experts, go ask Doctor Scofield. I haven't seen my charts and have no idea what they did to get me back on my feet, I'm just glad to be standing.” He turned to look at Jamie, feeling her support flow over him. Smiling at her, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly, playfully.   
Their audience watched the tender scene with mixed emotions, this being one of the few time Mitch and Jamie had so openly displayed their affection for one another. To most of the people in the room, it was common knowledge that the pair slept together, but they hardly ever showed that level of intimacy to the world, unlike the others who were quite demonstrative in their affections.   
Clementine, feeling like a fifth wheel, gathered up her son and stood up. “I'm glad you're back with us again, Dad. I imagine it will be some time before you decide what you want to do around here, but I'm sure there will be plenty who will want you on their research team. In the meantime, you have no excuse not to spend time with us.”  
Jamie got off Mitch's lap to allow him to stand. Putting an arm around his daughter's shoulder, Mitch walked her to the door.   
“I'll be around so much you'll be shooing me away. How about lunch tomorrow?” he asked.  
“I'd love that. If you come to my place I'll make it for you.”   
“Sounds perfect. You can tell me all about...stuff.”  
He hugged her, careful of the baby. Clem kissed him on the cheek and left the apartment, calling out goodbye to Jamie in parting.   
The others took that as a sign to break up the reunion. Abe and Dariela leaving, then Jackson and Tessa, Jackson lingering a moment to look Jamie up and down.   
“What is it?” Jamie asked with a laugh. “Do I have a spot on my nose?”  
Jackson shook his head. “Nothing...something, I don't know. Take care, you two.” Then he was out the door, shutting it behind him.   
Jamie flopped into one of the chairs. “Thank goodness that's over.”  
“Yeah. Awkward much?” Mitch added, taking one of the other chairs. He patted his lap and she was out of her chair and curled up in his in the blink of an eye.   
“That's better,” he growled quietly, wrapping her in his arms while she snuggled against him.  
“Clem was so pleased to see you. I have to admit I hated not keeping her up to date on your progress,” she confessed.   
“She won't hold it against you. The others seemed pleased to see me, as well. We should expect another interrogation from Abe, and I'm sure Jackson will have a few questions of his own.”  
Jamie turned his face towards her and kissed him. “They were probably being too polite to ask the real questions, like how do you look younger than before, why have you lost weight? All the usual nosy stuff.”  
They were quiet for a little time.  
“You know, when you were holding the baby, I could feel the glow coming off you,” Mitch told her.   
“But you were inside the bedroom, you can't see through doors, can you?” Jamie joked.   
“Not yet. No, when everyone arrived, I could see their thoughts as colors, and when you held Sam you just filled my mind with this incredible glow.”  
“Wow. That's beautiful.”  
He nuzzled at her hair. “You're beautiful.”  
They sat a little longer curled up together in the chair. Eventually, a faint rumble from Jamie's midsection precipitated a move.   
“You need feeding, come on.” He lifted her out of his lap and stood up, stretching to bring feeling back into his cramped limbs.   
Together they left the apartment and sauntered, hand in hand, down to the food hall, loading up a tray each before finding a table that overlooked the runways. The place was half full, with people coming and going all the time. Jamie watched Mitch for any signs of distress or difficulty dealing with so many people, so many thoughts.  
He caught her out and reached across to take her hand. “Stop worrying. I've got this. I'm finding that I can shut down the input to a manageable level, it takes some concentration, but I'll get better with practice.”  
“As long as you're sure?” she felt an answering wash of smugness rush through her and she laughed out loud. “Is there nothing you can't do?”  
“Fuck no. Now eat up, I want to see more of this place. Might as well make the most of our time out of the apartment.”

After they finished eating, she did as he requested and took him on a tour of the former airport. Most of the places they visited he'd already seen from her own memories, but it was nice to see it all in context despite that. She even took him down to see the garage and meet Mike, discussing with the young man what they might need if they took the Unimog out for a spin. Mike was so impressed with Mitch he offered to draw a map to show them the best spots around the island, and also a map of hazards to avoid in the city if they decided to venture beyond the swing bridge.  
Jamie eventually had to pull Mitch away as it was getting dark, and Mike's shift was finishing. 

They strolled back around the outside of the building, admiring the sunset, then the appearance of the stars as the sky darkened overhead. At last they arrived back at the apartment, after picking up some supplies. Alone inside, they deposited the food and drink in the fridge before kicking off their shoes and padding into the bedroom.   
Jamie slowly peeled off her clothes and dropped them on the floor as she headed for the shower. Mitch followed suit and joined her under the steaming spray of water. The shower was truly spacious and they leisurely washed each other, engaging in play with the soap bubbles before rinsing off and toweling each other dry. In the bedroom they shed the towels and climbed under the covers naked, entwining arms and legs as they kissed, content to indulge in a lengthy foreplay before making slow love to each other, never once switching on a light, the partial darkness illuminated by the distant lights outside, spreading shadows across the figures on the bed lost in a world of their own. 

x-x-x-x-x


	20. The Bigger Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch expands his repertoire and Jackson is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should have split this monster into two books, but too late now. Maybe I should put a warning at the start - "Be prepared to sacrifice a fair portion of your reading time to this juggernaut."

x-x-x-x-x

“He likes me.”  
“Well, duh. You're his gramps, of course he likes you.”  
Mitch sent his daughter a dirty look over the head of his grandson. “I still strongly object to the use of any word associated with being a grandparent in any shape or form.”  
Clem laughed, her son gurgling along with her. “Sam agrees with me.”  
Mitch smiled down at the child in his arms. “He's just confused. I'll insist he calls me Mitch.”  
The baby reached up a chubby hand and tried to pull his glasses off. Mitch leaned back out of reach and pulled a funny face at the child.   
“Oh, no you don't. I know they're fascinating, but I need them to see.” To distract the child from its absorption with his eyewear, Mitch captured the tiny fingers between his lips, the baby finding this most amusing and gurgling again, beaming up at his grand-sire. Suddenly the baby seemed to lose focus, its face turning pink. Just as suddenly it was back to normal, an aroma arising from where Mitch currently had his hand.   
“Oh, yes that was a good one. Time to hand you back to yo' momma to take care of business.”  
Mitch held out Sam for Clem to take. Clem wrinkled her nose and headed for the changing table at the side of the room.   
“So I can't encourage you to have a go at changing him?” she asked, settling baby Sam before starting to unravel him from his onesie and nappy.  
Mitch held up his hands. “Nope. I'll leave this one to you.” He walked into the small kitchen and filled the kettle, setting it going before standing with his back to the bench, watching as Clem quickly and efficiently disposed of the smelly diaper and wiped clean her son's bottom.   
By the time Mitch had made himself a cup of coffee, Clem was seated in one of the easy chairs, preparing to feed a clean, and sweet smelling baby.   
“So, Dad, you and Jamie?”  
Mitch sat down in the other chair. “What about us?”  
“I think that was the first time I've really seen you two be openly affectionate in public. It was sweet.”  
Mitch grimaced. “Sweet? Really? Anyway, we've been plenty touchy-feely in public. You just weren't around when it happened.”  
Clem snorted. “Like when? Even Abe and the others thought it unusual. I mean, we all knew you and Jamie were having sex, but outside the bedroom, you were not exactly...demonstrative.”  
Mitch winced, remembering Max bringing the subject up once or twice. “Our sex life is nobody's damn business. As for PDA's...again, no one's business but our own. There's been plenty of times we've done the couple thing, we just don't make a great big fuss over it.”  
“If that was the case, why was everyone so surprised?”  
Mitch let his head drop back onto the chair. “Okay, I'll mention a few of the times we indulged in PDA's...that time in the African hospital, with the leopard thing going on, Jamie and I held hands.”  
Clem smiled wryly. “Oooh, how thrilling.”  
Mitch grinned, still staring up at the ceiling. “And then there was the time on the plane, before it crashed, when Jamie kissed me.”  
“Do tell, did anyone else see this?”  
“Nope. What about the hug we shared in Caraquet? With all the polar bears around. Jackson and Abe were there to see that.”  
“A hug? Not exactly steaming up the glass, Dad.”  
Mitch harumphed. “Bet you didn't know that Jamie and I kissed and hugged several times in those days leading up to the plane crashing through the barrier. All were in plain view.”  
Clem shook her head. “Don't believe a word of it.”  
Mitch grinned. “Admittedly there wasn't anyone around at the time, but if anyone had been there, well, they would have been surprised for sure. Jamie really likes kissing. We even kissed in the barrier control room and hugged when the beacon shut down. So there.”  
“All right, I'm convinced. So...you and Jamie?”  
Mitch groaned. “What?”  
Clem lifted her son and held him against her shoulder, one hand rubbing circles gently over the baby's back. “I'm just curious. Are you going to get married?”  
Mitch lifted his head to squint across at his daughter. “Why is that so important to you?”  
Clem shrugged. “I guess I just like a happy ending for you both.”  
“There are no happy endings, Clem.”  
“Jeez, that's a bit dark, Dad. We're safe here, we have all we could want, I'd say that was a pretty good place to be in.”  
Mitch sighed. “I'm sorry, of course it is. I want us all to have a happy ending too, but...”  
“But nothing. I always knew you were a sarcastic, cynical bastard, but this is more than just your usual snarkiness. What did you see out there?”  
Mitch finished off his coffee and got up. “Forget what I said, Clem. There's always hope.” He walked to the kitchen and rinsed out the cup.   
Baby Sam let out a respectable burp, Clem lowering him back into her arms before settling him to her other breast.  
He closed his eyes and watched in his mind's eye the blending of colors around his daughter and grandson, he smiled warmly, enjoying the swirl of apricot and several shades of yellow, like a halo around their heads. His daughter was turning out to be a great mother, in spite of her disrupted childhood and difficult transition into adulthood.   
“What's happening about Sam...er I mean Connor?” He asked, deciding a change of subject was due.   
“He was airlifted out of Fort Brennan about the time we arrived here. I get the occasional message forwarded to me about his condition, but they don't tell me much.”  
“Where did they take him to?” Mitch asked.   
“Everyone was evacuated south, it was rumored they were taken to Bogata, Colombia.”  
“Of course, if they can hold the hybrids back from crossing the canal, they can keep South America free from the spore and hybrids alike. It's a least a defensible barrier.” Mitch mused. “So anyone who missed out on catching the last plane or boat off the continent can drive south, always supposing South America can cope with such a large influx of refugees.”  
Clem tutted. “I keep forgetting you've been out of things for awhile. Most of Mexico and the other countries north of Panama were evacuated south when the barrier was extended to Salina Cruz five years ago.”  
“Guess that solved the Mexican border stoush. Now everyone is heading in the opposite direction. Ironic much?”  
Clem ignored him, concentrating on her son who was falling asleep on her. She broke the suction on her breast and eased the nipple from the baby's mouth. Gently, she eased him onto her shoulder and patted his back softly.   
Mitch had turned his back to give her privacy, but now turned and reached for the child. “Give him here, I'm a past expert in bringing up wind.”   
While her father walked about the room, Clem buttoned up her blouse after tucking herself back into her maternity bra. Sitting back in her chair, she watched her Dad pace back and forth, putting a little bounce into each second step, a gentle joggle to bring up any lingering wind in little Sam's gut.   
“You really have done this all before.”  
Mitch glanced over at her. “Don't sound so surprised. I took my responsibilities as a father quite seriously, when you were a baby. I've changed my share of nappies, warmed up bottles of formula in the wee small hours, and brought up more wind than the America's cup.”  
Clem nodded. “Do you wish you could do it all again?”  
Mitch paused in his pacing, the baby sound asleep on his shoulder. He glanced over at his daughter, noting her pensive expression.   
“I should be asking you that? Jamie says you've signed on as a test subject for the sterility cure.”  
“Not a test subject, but I am helping them in other ways. And to answer your question, I would like another child, but that's something for the future. I have my hands full right now.”  
“You do. And this little guy needs his bed.” He handed baby Sam back to Clem who headed into the bedroom.   
Mitch stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out the tall window, his thoughts on the tiny speck of life growing inside Jamie, his child, their child. Clem came to stand beside him, threading her arm through his and staring out at the view.   
“Do you think you'll stay?” she asked.   
“I don't know. For a while, at least. I'm keen to see how they're getting on with the hybrid issue.”  
“They could probably use a fresh brain on the problem, and you have so much more hands-on experience than anyone here.”  
Mitch looked down at her. “High praise indeed.”  
They stood side by side, dad and daughter, just enjoying being together when so many had been lost to the chaos ruling their world. At length, Mitch turned and pressed a kiss against his daughter's forehead.  
“I have to be going. I'll come see you in a couple of days, okay?”  
Clem nodded, giving him a hug before watching him walk to the front door, give her a wave, and leave the apartment. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

Mitch stopped at the food hall to get something to eat. His body seemed to be hungry all the time, his appetite always sharp. He'd noticed, since leaving the hospital wing that several things had changed. His sense of smell was keener, the awareness of how aroma was intrinsic to what people were feeling around him, enhancing his interpretation of what they were saying or feeling, whether or not he could hear them speaking. He tested his theory of what the people were experiencing by listening to their thoughts while inhaling the aroma of their emotions. He quickly learned how to spot a lie, even a harmless fib or obfuscation, the exercise becoming like a game for him.  
All his other senses seemed to be enhanced in some way or another as well.  
His ability to taste was boosted so that nothing ever tasted bland, even if it was. He was able to detect nuances in food, even detect the individual chemicals used to treat the water or sweeten a drink.  
His hearing was better than it had been, not by any means superhuman, but he'd been aware, approaching his middle years, that he probably should have taken better care of his hearing when going to all those rock concerts and noisy nightclubs he'd been so fond of in his youth. Now it was back with no loss of hearing at either end of the scale.   
His eyesight had also been deteriorating, his myopia not improved with looking down microscopes and peering at the too small lettering on the computer screen late into the night. Now he could swear his vision was improving, that he could go without his glasses more and more often. His night vision was vastly improved, the dark no longer an inhibitor for him to move about in. Soon he'd have to swap out the lenses in his glasses for plain glass with no magnification at all. Having worn glasses all his adult life due to an incompatibility with contact lenses and insufficient funds to have the laser surgery done, he felt uncomfortable not wearing anything at all on his face.  
The last enhancement that he really, really liked was the rapid healing of his scars, all other wounds included and giving him the appearance of having had a fantastic relaxing holiday at a world-class spa to account for his youthful look.   
If he was honest with himself, becoming hybridized was probably the best thing he could have done at his age, not that he knew that at the time or would recommend anyone else trying it out.   
Evidence already suggested that the spore had an adverse effect upon the ordinary person who had not been exposed by any other means to a hybrid via a scratch, bite or injection.   
As Doctor Scofield had pointed out to Jamie, it was probably a whole host of different factors, his particular brain chemistry, exposure to the Razorback bites, his time spent in the tank, whatever cocktail of drugs Abigail had fed or injected into him, all contributed to his current situation.   
Mind you, if he started sprouting fangs or spines, he was seriously going to freak out. 

His hunger sated, for the time being, he tossed his rubbish into the trash and continued on to the apartment. Just thinking of Jamie made his blood pressure increase, his heart start to beat rapidly and make his dick stand to attention. Yup, it was time to satisfy another type of hunger.

X-x-x-x-x-x

Jamie heard the door bang and her name called but she was too drowsy and comfortable to investigate. Only when she was nearly bounced off the bed by a large male body landing beside her did she open her eyes.  
“Mitch?”  
“You were expecting someone else?” His deep, rough voice rolled over her like honey, making her toes curl and her cheeks blush.   
“Did your visit with Clem go well?”  
“Peachy. The bub likes me.”  
“Of course he does,” said Jamie, echoing Clem's words. “You're his....” She found a finger barring her lips from saying what she'd been about to say.  
“Nope. As I informed my daughter, as far as baby Sam is concerned I am Mitch. Nothing else, certainly nothing starting with the letter 'G'!”  
Jamie giggled, then suddenly rolled off the bed and made a dash for the bathroom. Wretching sounds followed, Mitch padding to the bathroom to find a cloth and running it under the tap.  
“Here.” He crouched down beside her, handing her the flannel to wipe her face. As she hadn't had breakfast yet, there was little to show for her efforts.   
“Ugh. That was thoroughly unpleasant.” Jamie handed back the cloth and made to stand up. She'd barely got upright when Mitch swept her off her feet and carried her back to the bed.  
“Stay here, I'll get you something.”  
Jamie lay back and closed her eyes. She no longer felt nauseous, but still inexplicably tired.  
“Here you go.” Mitch was back with a plate and a glass of something. “Just some dry toast and a fruit smoothy.”  
Jamie opened her eyes and sat up, her appetite returning in a rush. “Mmmm I could get used to breakfast in bed.” She nibbled at the toast and sipped the drink, finding both staying down with no urge to return. With the small meal consumed, Mitch moved the plate off the bed and slid a hand under her t-shirt, finding a rounded breast and tweaking the pert nipple.   
Jamie wiggled down the bed, pulling off her shirt at the same time, giving Mitch free access, which he took advantage off enthusiastically. Before long the rest of her attire was decorating the carpet and she lay naked, while Mitch remained fully clothed.   
“What's wrong with this picture?” Jamie quipped, enjoying the lavish attention to her breasts. “Not that I'm complaining, but why aren't you naked?”  
Mitch raised his head, licking his lips. “I'm having my breakfast in bed too.” Taking off his glasses he tossed them off to the side, where Jamie snagged them and placed on the bedside table.   
“ So I don't get to play too?”  
“Nope. This is all for you, so lay back and let me do my thing. I promise you'll enjoy it.”  
Jamie smiled and closed her eyes, relaxing back against the pillows. “Never doubted it for a second.”  
An hour later and Jamie was a quivering wreck, reduced to that state by the smug looking man at the end of the bed, his cheek resting against her inner thigh.  
“That's it....you've officially killed me,” Jamie panted, her body still trembling as she slowly descended from wherever she'd just rocketed. He had kept her hanging on the cusp of pleasure and pain, then combined his wicked mouth with his wicked new talent and sent her screaming over the edge, her nerve endings exploding like fireworks.   
Mitch carefully lifted her shaky legs over his head, pulled up the covers he'd disrupted back over her body and settled down beside her, his head propped up on his hand. He casually sucked on the first and second fingers of his left hand, then licked his top and bottom lip.   
Jamie cracked an eyelid and watched him. He noticed and grinned at her.   
“Delicious.”  
She laughed weakly. “I am so going to enjoy returning the favour...when I recover, that is.”  
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I look forward to it.”

He watched over her as she slept, his hand drawn protectively to cover her still flat abdomen, her hand resting atop his affectionately. He eventually lay his head down beside hers, closing his eyes to better concentrate and see her unconscious thoughts, her dreams, all of them intertwined with soft greens and pastel blues. Satisfied that she wasn't likely to be disturbed by bad dreams, he pulled back and closed off his mind, instead letting his senses absorb the richness of the woman lying beside him.  
She was a banquet, a sumptuous feast and he intended to go back and fill his plate many, many times.

X-x-x-x-x

Jackson watched from across the food hall. He was focused on a table on the other side of the room from him. Mitch and Jamie had just come in and sat down to enjoy lunch together. Jamie was being particularly animated, Jackson too far away to be able to hear what she was saying, but whatever it was, Mitch was soaking up every word. Every now and then Mitch would smile broadly at something she said, his face relaxed and happy, obviously enjoying whatever Jamie was expounding upon. They looked like a normal contented couple.   
It irked Jackson no end. Something was off and he couldn't put his finger on it.   
Jamie was part of the problem, he'd noticed it when he'd been close to her in the apartment. It wasn't how she looked or moved, it was something more visceral, something about the way she smelled, and the level of heat she was giving off. It made him feel uncomfortable, faintly aggressive – which was worrying – but worse it made him want to go over there and tear her away from Mitch and keep her for himself – feelings that frankly scared the shit out of him. Up until now he'd only ever felt towards Jamie the way he'd expected to feel about having a sister, or cousin, feelings of affection, feeling protective as he would of anybody smaller and weaker than himself, but nothing of a sexual nature, certainly not when it became clear that Mitch was her primary focus of attraction. After Mitch was supposed dead, he'd offered her comfort, purely of a brotherly nature, nothing again of a sexual nature at all. When Mitch returned and with it Jamie's relationship with him, Jackson wasn't remotely interested in her, he had Tessa – more than enough for him to handle. Plus, he had nagging doubts about Jamie's ethics and judgment regarding all sorts of issues, brought to a head when she employed Mitch, as Duncan, to murder his real sister, Abigail. If he was truthful, he'd hated Jamie at that moment, didn't trust her an inch and cheerfully locked her up, partly to punish her, but also to backhandedly protect her from the violence he wanted to inflict on her.   
Upon reflection, helped by being apart from Jamie and Mitch for some time, he was able to work through his conflicting emotions, colored as they were by all the revelations and tragedies that surrounded them all during that time.   
Now he thought he was over his issues with Jamie, and Mitch for that matter, but it seems that he was wrong.   
He had been so inwardly focused he hadn't realized that his fixed stare was being returned by a very pissed off Mitch. When he refocused, he noticed that although Mitch was returning his look, his expression was unchanged from moments before, he was still smiling at whatever Jamie was saying, but Jackson had the distinct impression that Mitch was well aware of Jackson's unruly and possessive thoughts and was sending the unmistakable message to him to back down and fuck the hell off.  
Jackson blinked, but when he looked again Mitch was looking at Jamie, laughing at something she said. As he watched, Mitch reached out over the table top and Jamie took his hand, the couple getting up from the remains of their lunch and leaving the food hall, not turning back once.  
Jackson shook his head and stared down at his own neglected meal, his mind a scrambled mess of jumbled impressions. Maybe he'd been so caught up in his musings he imagined that look. When he did a quick self-examination he found no evidence that he felt anything towards Jamie other than a friendly, non-sexual affection.   
Maybe all he really needed was to get Tessa in bed and stay there until they couldn't move from exhaustion. 

X-x-x-x-x

Mitch was pacing. Jamie was taking a nap, leaving him to his thoughts, which inevitably turned to his encounter with Jackson across the expanse of the food hall.   
He'd been listening to the story she was relating about some journalistic encounter that ended up with her chasing chickens around someone's yard. They were laughing over a particularly funny bit when he felt the hackles go up on his neck, his face giving nothing away, but his brain already searching the room for the source of his unease and awareness of a threat. It didn't take him long, seeing Jackson, or more precisely feeling Jackson and his thoughts from way across the room. The thoughts were not pretty, and all centered on the woman seated across from him. Mitch reached out, noting that Jackson's colors were a muddied swirl of his own grey-blues mixed in with a rampant splash of purple, apparently indicating his level of aggression and sexual awareness. It was a direct threat to his, Mitch Morgan's, alpha status as well as an unwanted sexual interest in his breeding mate...Woah, hang on, since when did he think of Jamie as a breeding mate? Or himself as an alpha male for that matter? Mentally shaking his head, he sent a narrow band of emotion Jackson's way, in effect telling the man to power down the testosterone and fuck off back to his own mate. 

Jamie remained oblivious to the split second exchange between the competing hybridized males, which Mitch was very thankful for. Jackson seemed to have got the message, his thoughts suddenly diverted from their former track to one that now involved his girlfriend, Tessa. Mitch felt pretty pleased that he'd seen off that potential threat without disrupting Jamie's flow of chatter, the pair of them leaving the food hall with none of the occupants any the wiser. 

Now Mitch was reviewing what had happened, as well as his reaction to having another male show interest in his mate. For fuck's sake, Jamie would have a fit if she could hear what he was calling her, even if it was only in his mind. He also recalled how his body had started to prepare for a fight by consciously increasing his heart rate to pump blood to his arm, chest and back muscles, his hands, previously laying lax in his lap, clenched into white-knuckled fists, poised on his rock hard thighs, thankfully out of sight under the table. If he'd had spines, they would have been stiff and standing straight up in a display of pure male readiness to fight all comers over possession of his female. Goddammit, he was doing it again. He felt like snarling and growling and marking his territory. If he was Wolverine with metal talons to call on, he couldn't have felt more aggressively protective of the woman sleeping peacefully in the next room. 

Feeling his level of frustrating ramping up, he threw himself into one of the easy chairs and carefully employed a relaxation technique to loosen every tight knot of muscle, every tense tendon, until he had himself physically and mentally under control again.

X-x-x-x-x

“Wow!” Tessa panted, lying back against the pillows, her face pink and hair mussed.   
“Yeah,” Jackson agreed, his heart galloping in the aftermath of his acrobatic and marathon session of lovemaking. Tessa had shrieked in surprise when he'd appeared at the door of their apartment, swept her up in his arm, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom before throwing her on the bed and practically ripping all her clothes off. Not that she minded one bit, but Jackson had a tendency to be rather conventional, but always enthusiastic, in his technique. She loved her gentle, tender lover, but a bit of caveman never went amiss, especially when unexpected.  
Getting her breath back, even if her limbs were not fully cooperating, Tessa rolled onto her side and stared at her handsome, athletic lover.   
“Whatever brought that on? We have to do it again sometime.”  
Jackson smirked, his pulse still hammering, chest heaving.   
“I just had an itch I needed to scratch,” he explained loosely.   
Tessa grinned. “We need to scratch that itch more often.”  
Jackson turned his head to face her, his brows drawn together in a frown. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”  
“Not a bit,” Tessa reassured him. “I'm not saying I don't love our usual pace, but this is a side of you I haven't seen before, and I like it when you go all He-Man on me.”  
He laughed. “You're a hell'ova woman, Tess. I love you.” He lifted his arm to allow her to snuggle against him.  
“I love you too, Dyl...sorry, Jackson. You'd think I'd have stopped thinking of you under your alias.”  
Jackson brushed his hand over her hair. “Don't worry about it. I don't. As long as you're with me, that's all that matters.”  
They lay together, relaxed and content, watching the rain patter against the window. The clouds had closed in and were depositing their burden of rain heavily, all over the airport and beyond.  
Jackson sighed and Tessa gave him a moment to speak up, but when he didn't, she did.   
“I have the feeling, and don't get me wrong I love what we just did, but I'm thinking there was more to it than just sex in the afternoon. What's up?”  
Jackson sighed again. There wasn't much he could get past Tessa. She was like a Terrier after a rabbit when she sensed something was amiss.  
“I saw Mitch and Jamie in the lunch hall today.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. Tessa grew impatient.   
“Did you go up and say hi?”  
“No. Remember after we went to their apartment and saw Mitch and Jamie together, they were being openly affectionate, even more so than any of us, Abe or I have ever been when the team were about.”  
Tessa raised her eyebrows. “I thought it was about time. They've been sleeping together for ages, so I suppose it was appropriate they 'came out' about their relationship.”  
Jackson screwed his face up. “Yeah, I know all that, but there was something else, something about Jamie. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something different, something off.”  
Tessa hugged. “I didn't notice anything other than the fact she looked like a woman deeply in love.”  
Jackson snorted. “Oh, she's that in spades.”  
Tessa raised her head, looking at him oddly. “Just what set you off today? You saw Mitch and Jamie, so what?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you have a fling with Jamie when she thought Mitch was dead? And now you want her back again?”  
“What!? No! No, not at all, God, I have my hands full with you as it is!”  
“Excuse me?! If I'm so much fucking trouble...” Her outburst was cut off by reason of his hand clapped over her mouth.   
“Tess, shut up for a moment. I apologize, that came out wrong. I meant that I am very happy with you and would never look at another woman, certainly not one so well and truly taken like Jamie.”  
Tess subsided and he removed his hand slowly.   
“What I meant to say, was that there's something about her that draws me, but when Mitch noticed, I think he put a hex on me because the next thing I knew all I wanted to do was to find you and take you to bed until we couldn't walk.”  
Tessa reared up and rested back on her elbows, her expression thunderous. “I don't know what's worse? That you appear to be unwillingly lusting after another man's lover, or that someone has to put a spell on you to make you want to make love to me! Either way, the next words that come out of your mouth will decide whether you sleep here or on the couch tonight.”  
Jackson cringed, admitting to himself that he'd made a monumental hash of explaining everything.  
He sat up and held his hands out in supplication. “Tess, baby, I'm not...I don't...Hell, I locked her up in a cage I was so mad at her. I don't have any feelings other than purely platonic for Jamie Campbell, believe me. I love you, and only you. Tess?”  
She regarded him for a long moment, still frowning. “Alright, you're forgiven, but only if you do that thing you did before, that was pretty fucking amazing.”  
Relieved he'd managed to avert a disaster, Jackson grinned down at her and rolled over to fulfill her demands, which, if he was honest, was not exactly a hardship. 

X-x-x-x-x

Mitch, still in a state of contemplation, let his mind wander, taking himself on a tour of the corridors and room he'd explored so far. A familiar pattern of colors drew him to one of the apartments nearby and he recognized Jackson and Tessa, the pair apparently enjoying themselves quite noisily. He briefly explored Jackson's state of mind, but it was no longer focused on Jamie or himself, so he moved on, leaving the lovers to their tryst.   
He continued down various hallways, passed many doors both open and shut, his mind dipping lightly into the thoughts of anyone he encountered, just getting an impression before moving on. In his relaxed state, his mind's eye was seeing sharp images, as if he was actually there, the very definition of astral projection. He experimented, imagining his body simply rising up through the floor to the next level, like a specter passing through walls, listening to snatches of thoughts on his way through. Now he was in areas he hadn't been before, but it was still clear to him, the doors having labels instead of numbers like the apartments below. One of the levels appeared to be set aside for a security section, some of the rooms kitted out with surveillance screens showing many different areas of the airport building and surrounds. He drifted through the security teams thoughts, picking up snatches of information, some of it just gossip, others snippets to do with people he hadn't heard of, let alone met. As he drifted through one of the security suites, he stopped abruptly, recognizing the room one screen was displaying. He checked the other screens and sure enough, they were showing different angles of the main living area, including the bathroom. He spent a moment calming himself down and then listened in on the two men monitoring the footage. 

“What the fuck is he doing?”  
“Fucked if I know. Probably meditating or taking a nap.”  
“Shame they didn't leave the lights on the other night, from the noises they were making, it was one hell of a show.”  
“Yeah, well they can't get in there now to install an infrared camera, can they.”  
“Suppose not. She sure sleeps a lot, when she's not fucking or being fucked. Guess he wears her out.”  
“He's doing well given his age.”  
“How old is he?”  
“Pushing fifty. I saw the file on these two, she's a real firecracker and he's some sort of brainiac professor.”  
“Not a big fan of redheads myself. Too damn moody.”  
“Thought your ex was a redhead?”  
“Only out of a bottle!”  
“What are we supposed to be watching for, anyhow? All they ever do is fuck or talk.”  
“Anything unusual, or suspicious or weird.”  
“Well, that just about covers every fucking thing they've done so far.”  
“Hardly. They sleep, they fuck, they eat in, they eat out, they have their friends over, or they don't. Not exactly front page news and not exactly strange or unusual, and definitely not weird.”

Mitch had heard enough, he noted where the cameras were hidden around the apartment, then pulled his mind back to his body. He blinked his eyes open and stared around the room, careful not to make direct eye contact with the camera. Making a show of stretching after sitting so long, he went into the kitchen and made himself a hot drink, all the time thinking of ways to foil the spies several floors away. 

He carried his drink into the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed, staring out at the view beyond the window. He pondered why anyone would bother to spy on them, what they would hope to gain by recording what they did or didn't do in the apartment. The mental communication wouldn't be visible to anyone watching, nor any of his other developing abilities. So unless they were just voyeurs, there had to be a reason for recording their movements and conversations.   
Jamie had said the Doctor Scofield knew about the pregnancy, so it was unlikely the Doctor would not tell her colleagues the situation. Did they think he was going to suddenly turn violent, or likely to be plotting something detrimental to their entrenched plans? Were he and Jamie somehow a threat to somebody here? What sort of threat could his survival, or for that matter Jamie's pregnancy pose to anyone? Was it just big brother being overly cautious? Or was there something else in play? What did they really know about the purpose of the facility and the people running it? Was it really so altruistic in its mission to cure the sterility problem and find a way to stop the hybrids?

Somehow he was going to have to get answers to all these questions, because right now, this safe haven wasn't feeling so safe anymore.

x-x-x-x-x-x


	21. Do I Stay or Do I go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch and Jamie take a tour and a speaker rallies the troops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still hanging in there? you deserve a medal for sheer endurance. I keep trying to hurry my muse along, but she just won't take any shortcuts, dagnabbit.

x-x-x-x-x

Jamie had a few questions of her own that she wanted answers to. She sat in Doctor Scofield's office and tapped a finger on her leg, the only indication that she wasn't as calm as she appeared. 

Mitch had told her what he'd found out, about the camera placements and surveillance. Jamie was ready to storm off and rip somebody a new one, but Mitch, despite wholeheartedly agreeing with her, suggested they find out more before they started taking scalps. 

She agreed but wasn't too happy about it. Now it was the following day and she pinned a smile on her face and waited for Ally to be seated behind her desk before launching her interrogation.   
“I'm surprised that anyone is so paranoid they want to watch me take a shit.”  
As opening salvo's went, it was a doozy. Ally looked like a deer caught in the headlights.  
“Er...pardon?”  
“The camera in the bathroom with the clear view of the toilet. Why would anyone want to see me or Mitch take a shit? Are you guys measuring our waste? Are you worried we're hiding our shit somewhere you can't find it?”  
Ally stared perplexed at her patient. “Um...are you saying there are cameras in your apartment?”  
“In the kitchen, in the living room, in the bedroom, the bathroom and the toilet. We also assume there are microphones seeded throughout the rooms as well.”  
“Oh, er...you say you're being watched?”  
Jamie reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a piece of technology. Leaning forward she carefully placed it in front of the doctor.   
“Yes. And just in case you brush it off a pregnancy paranoia, here is the proof.”  
Ally stared at the camera with an expression bordering on horror.   
“I don't know what to say. This was certainly not done on my authority, you have to believe me.”  
Jamie looked down at her hands. “Mitch is understandably pissed and starting to question exactly what is going on here.” She looked up and caught an expression of fear quickly covered by the doctor shuffling some papers.   
“You know what we do here. We're creating a cure for sterility, a cure to restart humanity's falling population.”  
Jamie nodded. “But nature has found a way around that cure – Clementine Lewis, myself.”  
“True, but two women among billions is not going to be able to repopulate the world.”  
“But what if that was the point Robert Oz was making. The world was already overpopulated, some countries with huge inequality in the balance of sexes, most often more males than females, producing pollution on a scale that the world couldn't cope with. What if that is exactly why the sterility gas was dropped, why Abigail created the hybrids, to lower the population to more manageable levels?”  
Doctor Scofield didn't answer her right away. She was staring down at her hands clenched tightly together on her desktop.   
“I have to ask you to stop talking about this.”  
Jamie looked puzzled. “Why? What threat is there in talking about it? I can't have been the only person to put forward that theory in the past ten years?”  
Ally licked her lips nervously, her eyes darting from left to right. “I can't talk about this with you.”  
Jamie leaned forward in her chair. “Can't or won't?”  
“Can't!” Ally spat back. “Now, we have some blood tests to organize, and I'd like to weigh you, the usual things...”  
Jamie pursed her lips and sat back in her chair. “Of course, take whatever you need. I'm not in a hurry to be anywhere.”

x-x-x-x-x

“And then she clammed up, not another word out of her that didn't involve something to do with the baby or my health and welfare.”  
Mitch was lying beside her on the bed, both of them fully clothed, catching up on their individual progress that morning in finding out the answers to their questions.   
Mitch had thoroughly debugged the rooms with her help, the pair of them finding cameras and hidden mikes in every room, those not used as proof were all disabled and added to Jamie's collection of doohickeys and thingamabobs.   
“I guess that means she's a part of it, either that or a victim,” Mitch mused. Jamie turned her head to look at him.   
“How did you get on?”  
Mitch snorted and bared his teeth in a grimace. “Your Doctor Adams is a twisted individual, but you don't have to worry about him wanting to see you again.”  
“Mitch? What did you do?” she queried.  
Mitch turned to face her with a smug grin. “Let's just say, Doctor Cornell Adams will think twice before attempting to make any contact with you, so don't be surprised if, or when, you see him next he runs away from you.”  
Jamie laughed. “What did you do?”  
“I put the fear of Mitch Morgan in him. I gave him a graphic mental image of what I'd do to him if he so much as looked at you, let along tried to speak or touch you.”  
Jamie giggled, into his shoulder, muffling her laughter.   
“Was this before or after you quizzed him about progress on the hybrid problem?”  
“After. He's actually pretty smart for a pervert. They seem to be taking the route of developing a poison, something like they were going to use in the Noah objective, but with the idea of only targetting the hybrids, not ordinary animals.” Mitch explained.  
“But surely that would have the same effect as the first idea, especially as so many animals will now be infected with the spore. You can't simply wipe out every mutated animal, reptile, bird and insect, that's lunacy.”  
Mitch glanced over at her with a wry smile. “Some people refuse to learn from history or in this case recent events. In some regards, I think the idea is good, but not to kill out the mutations because, as you point out, so many of the animal breeds are now showing that they are already too far along that road to turn back. It would be pointless anyway because the spore will still be there waiting for any clean stock to be reintroduced and infected all over again.”  
“So what's to be done?”  
Mitch reached up with one arm and crooked it behind his head. “I figure there are one or two steps needed before any progress can be made. Find a cure for the effects the spore has on humanity, that has to be the first priority. Once a way can be found for it not to kill people, then you go to the next step. How to clean it out or neutralize it within the planet's biosphere. That's a harder task. We know it is in the water and before long will be coast to coast and possibly in the ocean as well. We would need something like a virus that attacks the spore and renders it inert. Once the spore is taken out of the equation, then you look at those animals already mutated, is there a way to reverse the damage to their DNA? Or do we start from fresh, or better, find a way to switch off the DNA triple helix sequences so that animals revert back to their rootstock, so to speak. And once that is done, then you can start to reintroduce people back into the environment.”  
“Seems simplistic...”  
“It's not. There is a whole range of DNA based mutations – somatic and germ-line for starters.  
“The difference being?”  
“How do I put this...One effects nonreproductive cells, the other can be passed on to progeny.”  
“But what about the hybrids who are born hybrids, not mutated by the spore?”  
Mitch shrugged. “Bag'em, tag'em and shoot'em?” he drawled.   
Jamie rolled onto her side. “So history will be repeated. What you propose is what they did to the wolves, the coyotes, foxes, bears, puma, bobcats. Killed or driven out to make way for people and cattle or sheep.”  
Mitch peered at her, one eyebrow raised. “Since when did you become a hybrid lover?”  
“Isn't that what we've always been? Why we shoot darts, not guns at them? Isn't that why Chloe died? To stop that awful man, what was his name?”  
“General Davies.”  
“Yeah, him. Isn't that why we were flying around the world – to save the animals?”  
“But Jamie, wiping out the people to save the animals, is as nuts as wiping out the animals to save the people. Neither way works, but Robert Oz didn't bother to bring that up for discussion, he made the decision for us.”  
“The Shepherds made a great many decisions without consulting anyone. What if this..” she indicated everything beyond their apartment. “...If this is still part of the grand plan.”  
“Audacious. But you said you tracked down the Shepherds and had them incarcerated for crimes against humanity, those that lived anyway.”  
“I thought I had too, but what if those were only the tip of the iceberg? What if, like a Hydra, you cut off a head and another one sprouts somewhere else? What if the conspiracy was not just to control population growth with the sterility gas, but to hold the world to ransom once the cure was found?”  
“Maybe they didn't think it would take so long to find the cure,” Mitch pondered. “Maybe they thought it would only take a few years, instead it's taken over a decade, and without Clementine, they'd still be fumbling around in the dark.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe if we knew who was behind the funding and supply of this base, we would then know who was pulling the strings. They may have poached some of the top scientists and researchers in their fields, but the rest of the world can't be so far behind.”  
“Do we tell the others?” Jamie asked.  
Mitch pulled a face. “What is there to tell? Yes, we were bugged and under surveillance, but that could be explained away with any number of arguments, none of them sinister. We have a theory but no proof to back it up. Any reasonable person would have a hard time believing there's anything other than a benign outcome expected from everyone's hard work over the years. Who's the bad guy here?”  
Jamie let out a gust of air. “It's the fucking Reiden Corporation ghost all over again.”  
Mitch chewed on his bottom lip. “Possibly, but we have no way of proving that.”  
Neither of them spoke again. Jamie rolled over and threw her arm around Mitch, who did the same and wrapped her in his arms. They lay there for a long time.   
“I feel like a rat caught in a maze with no way out,” said Jamie.  
“There's always a way out, you just have to think outside the maze,” Mitch replied.   
“Do you think they would come after us if we left here?” she asked.  
“Chase after only the second woman in a decade to get pregnant, and to a full-blown mutant no less?” Mitch snarked. “I'm surprised they don't have us both locked up so we couldn't even think about such an idea, let alone act upon it.”  
Jamie shivered. “Don't say that maybe they will.” She clutched at him convulsively. “Do you think any of the others know about this?”  
“I'll find out. If anyone does, it will be Kenyatta. He's the closest in terms of working on the cure itself, providing the raw material in Baby Sam, and bringing Clementine on board with the project. If he doesn't know something, I'll be very, very surprised.”  
“So that's the plan? You find out what you can from Abe, then we decide whether or not to stay?”  
Mitch pulled her in tighter then let her go. “Yeah. That's the plan.”  
“And Plan B?”  
“I'll leave that for you to take care of. You were already working on one, so I suggest you get it back underway.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

Abe was typing up his notes when someone knocked on his lab door. Saving his files, he closed the laptop and got up to answer the door.   
“Mitch!”  
“Hey, big guy. Thought it was time I paid you a visit and see whatcha got cooking in the lab.”  
“Come in, come in.” He waved his visitor forward, then leaned on the door jamb to peer out and check the hallway. “Jamie not with you?”  
“Nope. Not joined at the hip, last time I checked.”  
“No, of course, not, I just wondered....anyway, great to see you. How have you been?”  
Mitch parked himself on one of the stools and rested an elbow on the bench. “Just fine. Don't seem to have experienced any major problems or side effects from the spore. Doc says I'm pretty much a hybridized human mutant, but other than that, I'm just great.”  
Abe gave his visitor a hard look, searching for some clue as to his reason for visiting.  
“As you probably realize as an endocrinologist, I don't have much contact with the hybrid side of things, I'm more reproductive, not mutation, kind of Doctor.”  
“No, I don't suppose you do. I'm keen to know how Baby Sam has helped move forward the research. Are you close to human trials yet?”  
Abe crossed his arms over his chest. “We are. Has Jamie told you that Dariela and Tessa have both volunteered to become test subjects?”  
Mitch nodded. “She did. I'm curious, Abe. What's the end game here?”  
Abe shook his head. “What do you mean, 'end game'? I would have thought that was obvious. Find a cure to end sterility and allow women to have children again.”  
“And does that include all women? Or just those who can afford the cure? Or maybe they go into a lottery? Tell me how it's going to all work.”  
Abe frowned, his usually jovial face becoming hard. “I don't know what you're getting at, but I know why I am doing this, to allow all women anywhere to once more bear children.”  
Mitch nodded. “So you're happy for whoever is in charge to take your research, your cure and do with it what they like with no input from you?”  
“What the hell are you getting at, Mitch?”  
Mitch ignored the question. “What if they choose to hold the world to ransom? They decide to dictate who can, and who can't have the cure. That only those able to afford the price, the luxury of having a child will have the opportunity. Are you still onboard with that? Or are you happy to stand aside and let somebody else decide how it's distributed?”  
“Are you crazy? Where is all this coming from? We came here to find a cure, to find a way to reverse the effects of the Shepherds gas, to restart human reproduction – for everyone.”  
“Very noble,” Mitch snarked. “But you really don't have any say in it, do you?”  
Abe was getting angrier by the second, his meaty hands curling into fists. “I would have thought you'd be fighting to get on one of the teams to add your bit to the cause. Instead, you seem to be implying something subversive is going on behind the scenes. That's crazy. They've been trying for ten years to find a cure...”  
Mitch jumped up. “My point exactly. Why has it taken them so long to produce nothing? Why has it taken Clementine and her baby happening before any real progress is made?”  
Abe looked taken aback for a moment. “I don't know why they've not managed to find a cure in all that time. I do know that we are only a few trials away from creating a serum that will reactivate the reproductive cycle in human females, which should result in the ability to become pregnant.”  
Mitch raised a hand to emphasize his point. “Wouldn't it have been easier to simply reverse engineer the gas, remove the inhibitors, advance invitro fertilization and kick start things off that way?” Mitch pushed.   
“You know nothing about this science, Mitch. You were too long away to keep up.”  
Mitch nodded. “Touche. I was out of the picture, as you say, so instead answer me this? Who is running all this?” He gestured with a sweep of his arm. “Is it a joint government task force? A worldwide consortium? A corporate cabal? Who owns this research?”  
Abe looked down at the floor for a moment. When he looked up the anger was gone from his face.  
“I don't know.”  
“Did it ever occur to you to ask?” Mitch queried. “For all we know, this is just another branch of the Shepherds attempting to reverse what went wrong ten years ago. Maybe they never expected the hybrids to escape the barrier and destroy the rest of the US. Maybe they never expected Robert Oz's daughter to form her own organization and become an eco-terrorist? She has to be funded by someone. Is the cure really a cure, or a chance to finally end any chance humanity has of surviving the hybrid takeover?”  
Abe pursed his lips and drew himself up. “I can only suppose that Jamie's paranoid view of the world has finally rubbed off on you, Mitch. I have worked with the doctors and researchers here, I've seen their work, their results. They are as dedicated as I am to resolving the sterility crisis. There is no conspiracy here, this is not some sort of Noah objective, as you seem to think. I don't know how you cooked up such a crazy theory, but I can tell you for a fact that I am not part of any cabal or any such organization. I am confident that Dariela and Tessa will prove that the cure works, that humanity can hope for a better future, that my son will not be part of the last generation of humans on this Earth.”  
Mitch had been listening to Abe, but also probing the man's thoughts, watching the color of his emotions. Abe truly believed what he was saying, was passionate about the outcome and showed no signs of deceit or hidden motives.  
“I believe you,” Mitch replied simply, giving the big man a crooked smile. “I truly hope that you haven't been misled, I do, and I wish you the best of luck, you and Dariela, in your bid to have another child.”   
Abe looked a little surprised but took the hand Mitch held out and shook it. Mitch got off his stool and walked to the door.   
“Catch you later, big guy.”  
Abe stared at the door long after Mitch had gone, his brain a whirling mass of questions and confusion, not least that he'd entirely missed something important during his conversation with Mitch. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

“So he doesn't know anything?” Jamie queried. Mitch had brought back lunch with him and they were sitting at the table in the apartment together.  
Mitch shook his head. “I'll admit I was expecting to find something, but Abe is still the straight up, or at least mostly straight up guy we all know and love. He believes that he is helping to bring the cure for sterility to the people of Earth, not just a small select few.”  
Jamie sipped her drink before speaking. “The few times I've spoken to Dariela about it, she seems excited at the prospect of adding to their small family.”  
“Abe was the same. He doesn't want his son to be part of the last generation. His words.”  
“And he doesn't know who is financing all this?” Jamie asked.   
“Nope. So, unless we find a warehouse full of branded beakers announcing who is the supplier...”  
They ate in silence for a little while.   
“You know, that was one of the things that struck me as odd,” said Jamie.  
Mitch raised his eyebrows at her.  
“Branding. If you look around the food hall, where you'd expect to see every kind of advertisement and branding opportunity, there's none. Even the food container and drink bottles have been stripped of their brands, replaced with simple labels instead.”  
Mitch looked surprised. “Now you mention it, you're right. Somebody didn't like the competition?”  
Jamie shrugged. “Beats me. Everything appears to be purely generic, a clever feat when you consider what life was like ten years ago when everything was branded, including the air you breathed.”  
“Another sign of Shepherd intervention?”  
“Who knows?”  
When they were finished, Mitch gathered up the plates and glasses and dumped them in the kitchenette's sink. When he returned to the table he held out his hand to Jamie.  
“Come on, we've been cooped up here for long enough. Let's make use of that map Mike gave us and take a tour of this island.”

x-x-x-x-x-x 

They hadn't met any opposition when they entered the garage to collect the Unimog and take it out for a spin. They were even able to kit it out with some bits and pieces from before, Mike helping them install some of Jamie's electronic gadgets and some basic breakdown supplies, just in case.

Soon enough they were driving out from the underground garage into the sunlight and tooling down the road away from the airport buildings and out towards the distant edges of the island. It was crazy driving along the main runway, the surface cracked and weedy. Within minutes they were on the track that ran around the outer edge of Sea Island, giving expansive views of the Salish Sea beyond, the heights of Vancouver Island in the distance. With flights no longer using the runways, a lack of ongoing maintenance was obvious from the unmown grass grown almost as tall as a man, alongside weeds reaching for the sun. They stopped at the pier than ran out onto the mudflats, carrying the runway approach lights. Here they left the Unimog and walked, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, hand in hand along the dock, inhaling the strong smell of brine and seaweed. The tide was coming in and slapped against the footings, Mitch pointing out schools of sprats in the shallow water, being pursued by hungry skates and the occasional dogfish.   
The breeze off the water was cool so they walked back and drove on, finding the usually locked gates wide open, allowing them easy access to the Iona island causeway. Further along, they encountered the Iona Beach Regional Park, which the road wound around, on the way passing several posts with metal cutouts of herons on top. Here was another long pedestrian-only causeway stretching a long way out into the bay. Jamie wasn't keen, so they put that walk down for a future explore. The same when the road ran out and they pondered on the North Arm Jetty, bordered by the Fraser River to the north, Georgia Trait to the south and west.   
“Save that for another time,” Mitch suggested.

They retraced their route and explored the northern side, once more outside the airport fence, wetlands to the left of the road. They could see across to the main airport building rising out of an ocean of waving grass. They were coming into some of the developed areas, with a few houses, then the huge Canada Post buildings with their empty delivery trucks rotting away in the carpark. A turn off took them to McDonald park where they stopped and got out. It had probably once been a very popular place for people to picnic and watch the Fraser River glide by. Now it was neglected and overgrown. The river still flowed by the bank, but a huge cell-phone tower had collapsed just shy of the carpark where the potholes in the road were big enough to qualify as duck ponds.  
Back on the circular road, they passed the abandoned UPS building, next door to huge tanks, presumably empty, that used to hold the reserves of aviation fuel, as well as petrol and diesel.   
The road now took them as close to the Vancouver mainland as it got, the overgrowth of greenery hiding the buildings and marina across the river. This area was patrolled day and night, the road to the very edge of Sea Island barred from casual visitors. They drove on past, the road curving around the east end, near to the last Skytrain station before it crossed over to the mainland.

They were quickly approaching what remained of the first road bridge crossing the Fraser. The entire center span was gone, jagged lengths of metal jutting out from either end but otherwise nothing. They were so close to the other bank they felt they could reach out and touch it, but the river ran deep and fast, likely to sweep anything that tried to get across further west towards the security guards waiting to shoot them. Jagged chunks of blasted concrete littered the area and they had to carefully maneuver around them. It was clear this stretch of the road was not frequented very often.   
A little further on and the destruction was repeated with the Skytrain bridge, less substantial than the other, but no less obliterated. A heartbeat after that, the remains of the third bridge, that overlooked the only escape from the island via the swing bridge, ended as abruptly as the previous two. They negotiated the spaghetti junction at the base of the broken bridges and continued to follow the road now the eastern border of the island. They passed the towering Pacific Gateway hotel before driving through the carpark, pausing to admire the impressive aerospace technology campus buildings next door, still beautiful despite several of the windows in the futuristic glass edifice being broken. The glass hanger alongside was equally worth seeing before they carried on, always aware of the tall buildings looming on the far bank, only a spit of water between them and Sea Island. Mitch drove them to the edge of the fourth obliterated bridge, the views quite inspiring if you ignored the ragged drop-off. Passing by an industrial park, they reached the final bridge to be destroyed, the sheer amount of explosive that must have been needed to bring that span of concrete crashing down, boggling the mind. 

They were now traveling along the eastern rim of the island, staring across at the towering white apartment blocks on the other side. The remnants of the number two bridge were barely visible, eddies of water around the stumps the only remaining signs of where the supports stood. Now they were passing those former businesses that provided helicopter and seaplane transport, one plane only recognizable by the tail sticking up out of the water at the end of a long jetty. A turn off found them driving through numerous engineering buildings and hangers, ending up at a dead end, in line with the main runway, the airport buildings clearly visible past the wire fence.   
“Time to go offroad?” Mitch asked, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.  
“If you insist. I'm going to need a bathroom break, so the sooner we're back there, the better.”  
“Best excuse ever. Hold on.”   
Mitch found a gate in the fence, backed the truck up and jammed his foot on the accelerator. The chain holding the gate closed might as well have been made of cheese, the truck breaking through the flimsy barrier without a scratch. Right on the other side was the runway being used by the independent airways, so they followed that to the main international runway and returned, as they'd left via a road to the underground garage. Mike the mechanic wasn't there to greet them so they left the Unimog parked in its designated space by the trailer and walked, as before, back to the main building. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

They arrived at an empty entrance hall.   
“Where is everyone?” Jamie asked.   
“Did we miss a memo?” Mitch muttered.  
“I have to go...” she darted towards the door leading to the ladies, Mitch following more slowly, standing propped up, outside the door to wait. He reached out with his senses and could easily follow the trail left by a large company of minds to a collective space. Jamie reappeared looking worried.  
“Figured out where the people have gone yet?”  
“This way.” He started off heading towards the other side of the airport, away from the east section where their apartment was, instead going westerly down the concourse. They soon caught up with a few stragglers hurrying towards the crowd at the end of the wide open space. 

“So you see, your work here is finally coming to fruition!” The crowd applauded. The speaker waited for the noise to die down. “Your patience and hard work have resulted in the first human trials of the cure starting next week. Soon, in a few months, you can expect to see the results of those trials being carried by the women who have offered themselves to be vessels for the sake of humanities future!” Again the crowd erupted into clapping and catcalls.

“I can't see who's speaking, can you?” Jamie asked, unable to see anything through the press of people.   
Mitch stood six foot one in boots, but even he couldn't see much over the heads of the people crowded together in front of him.   
“We need to get higher,” he told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back out of the fringe of people around them.  
Together they looked for a way to get above the mob, Jaimie spotting the access stairway above the former shops lining the concourse. They climbed the narrow access way to the top where it flattened out to follow the roof line of the shops. Several other people had had the same idea and turned to see who else was joining them. Mitch smiled congenially and they turned back to listen and watch the speaker, all interest in the newcomers dropped. 

The couple walked along the gangway a bit further before stopping to stare at what appeared to be the entire workforce, a hundred or more people, gathered in the space below. A long way forward was a scissor lift platform which the speaker stood on to be seen and heard by as many as possible. Around the base of the lifter stood a crowd of white-coated doctors and specialists, all of them looking up at the man raised high above everybody else. He was in a suit.  
“I still can't make out who it is?” Jamie complained, leaning forward.  
“Maybe you just haven't met them before, this is a pretty big place,” Mitch retorted.  
The speaker was waving down his enthusiastic audience for quiet.   
“I'm am glad your enthusiasm for our efforts is undimmed. Our time in this place will soon be coming to an end, the boats are being readied to transport us all, with our precious cargo to the world beyond. We expect to be leaving here with not only a cure to allow women to conceive once more, but also an initiative to combat the spread of the hybrid scourge infecting our water and corrupting our wildlife. Your faith and continued support are essential if we are to finally bring hope to the world through the labors of our doctors, nurses, scientist and researchers. At the end of the day, not only will we have saved the world, we will be paid handsomely for the privilege. Your sacrifice in leaving your homes, your families and your lives, will be repaid tenfold, you will have the pick of anything in the world as your reward for services rendered. Your future and the future of the world is within our grasp, so continue to do your tasks, fulfill your purpose and look forward to the richly deserved rewards that will surely come our way.”

“Well whoever he is, he knows how to rally a crowd,” Mitch growled, obviously not happy.   
“That's not necessarily a bad thing,” said Jamie, confused by his sour mood.  
“You didn't see what I've just been seeing in his head. This is definitely not what we signed up for.”  
“Mitch? What did you see?” Jamie was worried now.   
“Let's get back to the apartment. I'll sweep it again for bugs before I'll say another word about this.”  
“Should we get the others together to hear what you've found out?”  
“And tell them I can read their minds? How do you think they'll react to that?”  
“Um...not well.”  
“Quite. So how do you think I'll convince them about what I've seen without giving that nugget of information away?”  
“Yeah. That's going to be a problem,” Jamie agreed.   
“Right. So we keep this to ourselves for now.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

Mitch and Jamie hurried away among the departing workers, unaware of being seen by Abe and Dariela off to the side.   
“They arrived late,” Dariela observed.   
“Wonder why they're in such a hurry.”  
“Who's in a hurry?” Jackson asked, coming up beside them with Tessa at his side.   
“Mitch and Jamie. They practically ran out of here.” Abe informed them.   
“Something wrong?” Tessa asked.   
“Not sure. Going by his fierce expression, Mitch was unhappy about something he heard,” Abe replied.  
Tessa shrugged. “Why not drop by and ask them? That seems an easy way to find out.”  
“Yeah. He seemed to have a bee in his bonnet this morning, so we could always get him to clarify what he was on about?” Jackson suggested, Abe, having told him about the odd conversation over their lunch meeting.   
“You might be correct, Rafiki, then he can tell you what he told me. Maybe it will make more sense to you.”  
Together, the four friends followed the path of the couple to their apartment. 

x-x-x-x-x


	22. The Long Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch spills the beans and Jamie stamps her foot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of team involvement in this chappy, hoping they perform according to expectation.

17/11/2017

Chapter 22: The Long Goodbye

x-x-x-x-x

They had just made themselves a hot drink when the knock came.

“We expecting someone?” Mitch asked, looking at Jamie.  
“Not that I'm aware of.”  
“Stay here, I'll get it.” He reached out, instantly recognizing the thoughts and colors on the other side of the door. “It's the gang of four.”  
He opened the door to face a mixture of emotions on familiar faces. “Hi, guys.”  
Jackson stepped forward first. “Hi, Mitch. Can we come in?”  
Mitch waved him in, the others following in a line. After shutting the door behind them, he walked back into the kitchen to collect his drink. “What brings you all here?” he asked, blowing on the mug to cool the coffee.  
Abe and Jackson did their 'share a glance' routine before Jackson took up the cudgels and spoke first.   
“We noticed you were in a bit of a hurry to leave the concourse. Something up?”  
Mitch waited a moment before replying, judging and deciphering the flow of emotions and colors swirling within his friends. Jamie remained silent, letting Mitch carry the conversation.  
Eventually, he cleared his throat. “A number of things 'are up' as you put it, some of them relating to the conversation I had with Abe earlier today.”  
“Yeah, about that...” Jackson started, only to have Mitch wave him down.  
“We'll get to that. First, I want to know who that man was, and how is he related to what's going on here?”  
“You missed his introduction at the start. He's Crandall Evans, CEO of the Crandall Foundation. He's responsible for overseeing what we all do here.” Dariela informed him. Mitch noticed that Jamie had jerked when she heard the name, her eyes darting to meet his, her emotions and colors indicating she was upset. He sent her a wave of support and understanding, her small smile telling him she welcomed it.  
“What does that mean, exactly? He's the funding behind all this?” Mitch asked.   
“His foundation provided the primary funding for the initiative when it became clear that the cure wasn't going to happen overnight,” Jackson answered. “Apparently he's in constant communication with the administration here, but lives off-site, somewhere.”  
“He flew in?” Mitch asked in surprise. “We were just out there and didn't see any planes in the air or landing.”  
“Well, he did, regardless of you noticing or not. That's why they called everyone in to listen to his speech,” said Tessa.   
“And the talk about boats? What's up with that?” Mitch asked.   
“With the shortage of aviation fuel, it was deemed prudent to arrange a mass evacuation by sea, rather than air, this time,” Jackson explained. “But that's not going to happen for months yet. The convoy of ships isn't due until September at the earliest.”  
“You see, I find that idea completely bonkers. Why would you put your most precious cargo on a boat and sail it across to where Japan? Tokyo was obliterated by the beacon there, so you go south. Fine, but once you get there, then what? Take a slow boat to communist China?”  
“It's the American Navy out of Hawaii, they'd provide security as well as transport,” Dariela explained.   
“Okay, you're saying you trust the armed forces, the same people who'll happily weaponise anything they can lay their hands on, all on the orders of an untrustworthy government, or worse, the intelligence community, to transport you and all the people here plus the cure for sterility, and a supposed answer to the hybrid issue, over to Japan, or mainland China, and from there to the hub of Europe, supposing the Japanese, or Chinese let you go? Sounds crazy to me.”  
“What other choices do we have?” Tessa asked. “Flying directly to Europe is out of the question. Even if we drove across country to the east coast, there's no assurance they're in a better state than we are.”  
“So, the grand plan is - we abandon the North American continent from the arctic circle to the Panama canal and give it over entirely to the hybrids, and just decamp for Europe and a dubious welcome there? Always hoping that they don't just take the cures and politicize them or weaponize them and that both survive the all-out war that will erupt between the different countries and governments from Japan in the east to Africa and the Middle East in the south trying to get their hands on it.” Mitch was in full spate, hands on hips and eyes blazing. He knew he was pushing them, making them see what was in front of their faces, making them face the reality of the situation, but it was the only way to see what he needed to see, the truth in their thoughts. Dariela was the first to crack.  
“Fine, mister doctor fucking genius! If all of this is a fucking joke, what do we do? You tell us, what do we do?” she railed at him, tears moistening her eyes. “I want my son with me, I want Isaac here with us. I want him to have a chance to grow up, to have a world to grow up in.” She choked. Abe put his arm around her in comfort, the dark man glaring at Mitch in anger.   
Jackson waited for a beat, his arms crossed, his head bent. When he raised it again, he kept his voice moderated.   
“What you are basically saying is that all of this has been for nothing?”  
Mitch shook his head. “No. I'm saying that it's being managed by people that aren't interested in the fate of mankind, in giving humanity the ability to have babies again. I'm saying that the people that run this specific place are only in it to produce a commodity, a pawn in a sick game to provide them with whatever they want. Their aim is to hold the world to ransom. Whether they take a boat or fly or walk is irrelevant, the outcome in Europe or anywhere will be the same, outright war over the rights to administer the cure to their population. The first casualty will be the rights of women. Did any of you ever read the novel The Handmaid's Tale or watch the series they made about the book?” Mitch glanced at the group, noting that Jamie, Tessa, and Dariela all nodded.  
Jackson shrugged. “Sorry, I was busy running safari's.” Abe nodded. “Same here.”  
“Long story short,” Mitch explained. “Women were stripped of their rights, sorted into groups – wives, maids, whores and breeders by the alt-right, tortured when they didn't comply, and murdered when no longer useful, their children stolen and given to strangers with no hope of future contact. That is a very real possibility if anyone, any government, military or corporation tries to exercise control over the distribution of the cure for sterility.”  
Jackson snorted and glanced over at his partner, Tessa giving him back a glare that would have shriveled his balls if it was an option.   
“So what is the alternative?” Abe asked.  
“We take the cures, both of them and do what we've always done, as a team. We work to bring balance back, we help those we can, provide the cure where it's needed and do everything we can to, if not reverse, at least stabilize what's happening to our country.”  
The group stared at him, Mitch reading emotions ranging from hope, to fear to confusion.  
Jackson waved his finger at him. “You're a crazy son-of-a-bitch, and I'm not entirely convinced you aren't advocating just creating your own version of a dictatorship, but I want to hear more.”  
Abe pulled at his chin as he contemplated his answer. “I am with Rafiki, I would have to hear more about your plan before I'd commit myself to it. Plus, as Dariela pointed out, we are waiting for Isaac to arrive. We wouldn't want to leave here until he did.”  
Tessa piped up. “What about Clementine, and baby Sam? We need to bring them in on this. Clem isn't going to want to do anything unless it means we go fetch Sam senior as well.”  
Mitch held up his hands to get them to settle. “Look. All this is a revelation to Jamie and myself as well. We need to seriously decide how we want to shape our future, plus there are factors in play that you don't know about yet.”  
“Like what?” Jackson queried.  
“What are they?” Abe questioned.  
Mitch held his hands up again. “I can't answer that until you go away and seriously consider what I've said here. We are basically talking about initiating a subversive action, possibly inviting other people to join us, then breaking out of here and going somewhere else, where is also up for debate. I would ask until we meet again, that you keep this to yourselves. If you decide you want to throw your lot in with this Crandall Foundation, then so be it, but don't fuck it up for those of us that may decide we want to go our own way.”  
He held up a finger to gain their attention for a final salvo. “And one more thing. Your apartments and work areas are likely bugged with both cameras and microphones. Bear that in mind when you choose to bring this all up for discussion among yourselves. Take a trip outside, make up a picnic, but don't ever forget that Big Brother is possibly listening in if you are inside any of the airport buildings.”  
He registered the expression of shock and dismay on each of their faces, Jamie the only exception. The women hugged, the men shook hands and then they were gone, Mitch shutting the door behind them.  
“So much for not telling anyone!” Jamie sighed, coming up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, her head tucked under his chin.  
“Had to happen sometime,” Mitch muttered, his arms holding her close against him. “The truth is we can't do this entirely on our own, and having everyone on board would give us a hell of a head start.”  
“Who else is on your poaching list?”  
“I was thinking Doctor Scofield, Mike the mechanic and that's about it, so far.”  
“Not exactly a long list. I might know of someone, a nurse.”  
“Good. But just be aware, we'll be purloining goods and chattels, as well as vehicles and possibly a tanker, so the fewer that know the better.”  
“Mad Max rides again?”  
“Something like that. Hey, what was that reaction when they mentioned Crandall Evans?”  
“His name came up time and time again in my research when I was chasing down what I thought was the Shepherd leaders. Like Charles Duncan, he was a ghost, a name that I could never put to a face. If that man at the speech is the real Crandall, he can do literally anything. He's that powerful.”  
“Okay. We avoid Mister Big...”   
He felt Jamie tugging urgently to get out of his arms. “What?”  
When she dashed for the bathroom, her hand over her mouth, he went to the kitchen and soaked a hand towel in warm water, grabbed a glass of cold water and followed the sound of wretching.

X-x-x-x-x-x

Jamie twiddled her thumbs as she waited for Doctor Scofield to appear. In her pocket she had a handwritten letter, drafted the night before, to give to her being very aware of the possibility of the offices being bugged with at least a microphone. Mitch had suggested that after her appointment, regardless of reaction to her letter, they invite Clem and baby on a picnic, get them all away from the buildings and away from being overheard. It was also a thinly veiled excuse to give him time to play with his grandson. 

The door opened and a doctor walked in, not the one she was expecting.   
“Where's Doctor Scofield?” she asked.  
“Doctor Scofield's cases have been handed to me...”  
“Fuck that. I don't care if you're the fucking chief pediatrician, gynaecologist or supreme baby wrangler, I want Alexandra Scofield.”  
“I'm sorry, Miss...er...” He glanced at the topmost file. “...Campbell, but Doctor Scofield has been relieved of her duties at this time.” He sat down. “Now, if you'll roll up your sleeve, we'll get started...”  
Jamie had risen up out of her chair and now leaned on the edge of the desk, looming over the stranger despite her lack of inches.   
“No, you look. I like Ally Scofield, and I want Ally Scofield to take care of me. I do not want a stranger, and even worse a male stranger poking around my lady parts or fiddling with my baby. Do I make myself fucking clear?”  
“Abundantly,” the doctor retorted acidly, his lip lifting in a sneer. “I will have to see what can be arranged. The nurse will see you out.”  
Jamie flipped him the bird and stormed out, the letter untouched in her pocket. 

X-x-x-x-x

Clem was thrilled with the idea of a picnic, happy to get out for a bit and the chance to hand the baby off to its grandfather for a while. She met the couple at the entrance to the airport, Mitch carrying an actual picnic basket, while Jamie carried a bag obviously containing bottles. Together they walked to the underground garage, finding Mike on duty, who cheerfully added more stuff into the Unimog, even unearthing a battered, but serviceable child-pod for the baby to ride in. Included in the new stuff was some of the original camping gear taken out when they arrived, along with a gaudy beach umbrella Mike found from somewhere.   
“Have fun, folks!” He waved them off before returning to his previous task, a recalcitrant gearbox. 

“This is great, Dad. Don't know why I haven't done this before now.” Clem lay back on the tartan rug and sighed happily, her head supported by a fringed cushion.   
“Probably the threat of being attacked by a hybrid would kinda put the dampener on the whole idea.”  
“You don't have to remind me!” Clem retorted, cracking open an eye to check on Jamie who was showing little Sam some flowers blooming among the tall grasses. Beyond the weeds, they could hear the lap of water against the rocks lining the shore. The steady hum of insects among the flowers was a peaceful sound that neither father nor daughter had appreciated in a long time.   
Mitch was sitting cross-legged on another rug, next to the picnic stuff and under the partial shade of the sun-umbrella.  
He stared with undisguised longing at Jamie, the sheen of her hair bright against the green of the plants. Her thoughts and colors were soft and sweet, full of love and affection for the child she carried inside and the one she cradled in her arms.  
“Dad?” Clem's voice interrupted his musings. “Now we're away from everybody, what is it you want to tell me?”  
Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Someone been listening at keyholes?”  
“No. But Dariela said I needed to talk to you about something urgent when I saw her yesterday. So, what is it?”  
“In a nutshell? Jamie and I, and the rest of the team, possibly, are looking to leave here...soon.”  
“Well, we'll all will be when the ships come, duh!” Clem retorted, still smiling.  
“No. We won't be waiting for the ships. We will also be taking the cure with us, the one for sterility and the one intended for the hybrids.”  
Clem sat up suddenly. “What the hell? What is going on?”  
“I can't explain it fully, and I have no proof, but the people running this outfit don't have the welfare of humanity as their primary objective.”  
Clem gaped at him. “Are you nuts? They've been working ten years to come up with a cure, and you want to leave now?”  
“Think about that, Clem. Ten years and nothing, then you and baby Sam show up, and the cure is now ready for human trials, ready to be distributed to the world?”  
“Yeah. What's wrong with that?”  
“What's wrong is holding a planet hostage? What's wrong is knowing you can ask any price for that cure, dictate any terms, ask countries to fight it out to determine who gets it.”  
“And you know this for a fact, that is the way this is going to go down? How?”  
Mitch grimaced. “See, I knew you were going to ask that, and I can't answer you.”  
Clem glared at him. “Dariela said you had secrets, even from me? Dad?”  
Mitch glanced over at Jamie, who was coming back with the baby. “Maybe we can trust her?”  
Clem now glared at Jamie. “What the fuck does that mean? Of course, you can trust me!”  
Jamie knelt down and laid the baby on the rug in the shade. “Clem, this isn't just big, this is huge. Like finding your Dad in Siberia, huge.”  
“Like me having to save all your asses when you were shot!” Clem retorted, still incensed.  
“She has a point,” said Mitch. Jamie sighed.  
“Fine. Clem, try not to totally freak out, but your Dad – well, you know he was infected with the hybrid spore...”  
“Yes. So?” Clem was now too angry and impatient to be polite.  
Jamie continued. “Well, that kinda may have changed him in some pretty major ways.”  
Clem threw her hands up. “For fuck's sake, spit it out, already!”  
“I can read minds,” Mitch stated. “I can interpret emotions, surf the astral plane, mentally walk through walls, use my influence to...well, we don't know all the things I can do yet.”  
Clem stared at her father with her mouth open. “What the shit?!”  
Jamie winced. “You might want to temper that language around junior here.”  
Clem swung her head to stare at her, then back to her Dad. She hadn't blinked once. At length she did, closing her mouth into a tight line.   
“You're yanking my chain, aren't you?”  
Both Mitch and Jamie shook their heads at the same time. Mitch sent Jamie a request, which she answered by turning to look at him and smiling.   
Clem noticed and narrowed her eyes. “You just did it then, didn't you?”  
Mitch shrugged. “Yup. I was asking Jamie if we should share our other secret with you.”  
Clem frowned at him. “You have another secret? Bigger than the last one?”  
“Not necessarily bigger, but just as important.” Jamie drew in a breath. “I'm pregnant.”  
Clementine once more let her mouth hang open, her eyes wide as saucers. “You're pregnant?”  
“You finally get the sibling you've always wanted,” Mitch added, giving her a crooked smile.   
“But how?” Clem started then blushed bright pink. She waved her hand. “Forget I said that I know how I meant how is that possible without the cure?”  
“My fault. Apparently ever since the Razorbacks savaged me ten years ago, I've been inching along the course of becoming a fully fledged hybridized mutant human. The hybrid spore just brought it to the fore. When Jaimie and I made love that first time, I knocked her up.” He grinned at his lover, sending her a wave of love and lust combined.  
Clem looked at Jamie's red face and rolled her eyes. “How far along are you?”  
“Not very far, about two months.”  
Clem winced, “Eww, the puking stage, poor you.”  
Jamie shrugged. “I'm dealing with it. Your Dad has been helping.”  
Clem rose up on her knees and hugged her. “I'm so pleased for you.” She then reached over and hugged Mitch as well. “Way to go, Dad.”  
“So who does know?” Clem asked, sitting back and accepting a glass of juice.  
“The doctor who traveled with us, Ally Scofield, was looking after me, but she has been replaced. I kicked up a fuss, so I'm hoping she'll be reinstated, at least long enough for me to ask her what happened,” Jamie explained.   
“Which means that anyone in the hiararchy of this place knows as well,” Mitch added. “It could make leaving here more complicated.”  
Clem looked down at her child. “We would have to take a trip south and find my baby daddy.”  
Mitch shared a look with Jamie before turning back to his daughter. “You want to come with us?”  
“Like you were going to go anywhere without me and bubs?”  
Mitch grinned and leaned forward to hug her again. “You have to keep this quiet for now, you realize that?”  
“Of course. I'll just carry on as I have been until you give me the word.” Clem dipped her finger into her glass and let the droplet fall on baby Sam's face, making him react with surprise, his tiny hands spreading like petals. Clem laughed, the baby staring up at her and gurgling along with her.   
“And you can't tell the rest of the team,” Mitch added.   
Clem looked up. “You can trust me. I won't say a word.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

They had to wait another twelve hours before Ally was able to make contact with them. 

When they returned from the picnic they swept the apartment again for new bugs, finding them seeded throughout the rooms.   
“Gotta give them marks for persistence,” Mitch snarled, plucking another tiny microphone from its hiding place in the bathroom.   
The rest of the day was spent drawing up lists of what they wanted to obtain, either from the airport itself or at least within days of leaving it. They found an old and battered yellow pages business directory, an invaluable resource despite its age. Combined with a detailed road map of the city and surrounding suburbs they had a good chance of replacing anything they couldn't find from this information. Plan B was coming together, but a great deal hinged on the people they were able to convince to come with them. After that, the major hurdle was actually leaving the island itself.   
Not wanting to appear to be behaving in any way to stir up suspicions, they ate at the food hall among all the other people, Jamie noting that Doctor Adams beat a hasty retreat when he noticed the couple sitting at a table, the poor man almost running from the room. Mitch met her glance with an amused expression, the image he sent to her of a dog loping away with its tail between its legs making her laugh.   
Later they lay in bed, facing one another, eyes closed, experimenting with using imagery and emotions to make love to each other. Mitch proved far superior in his ability to concentrate as well as provide images that left his lover hot and bothered and completely incapable of keeping her thoughts on track. In the end, she gave up and rolled him onto this back, straddling his hips.  
“Right, Doctor Morgan, I think it's time I paid you back...time for you to lay back and let me do all the heavy lifting.”  
Mitch happily surrendered to her demand, Jamie catching his wrists and lifting them to lay above his head as if tied there.   
“No touching, just feeling,” she purred, taking her sweet time to sit back down, dragging her body back over his face, pausing when his mouth caught and suckled her breast in passing, nibbling the nipple into a peak. He lavished tender attention on them both until Jamie pushed herself back enough to lower her head and kiss him, her breast now flattened against his chest.   
After a lengthy exploration of lips, tongue, and teeth, Jamie nibbled her way with butterfly kisses down his jaw to his neck, sucking on the tendons when he pushed his head back into the pillows to give her more access. Then it was his shoulders and collar bone's turn, her fingers finding his flat nipples and teasing them into prominence ready for her lips to suckle and lathe when she reached them, her bottom capturing his erection between soft cheeks, a small rocking motion massaging his length against her core.   
Her hair tickled as her lips traced a path to his navel, her fingers combing through the glory line below until she wrapped them firmly around his cock. Shuffling further down, she used her knees to part his legs, spreading them wide so that he was almost spread eagle on the covers, entirely at her mercy. Mitch looked down the length of his body and watched through slitted eyes as his lover made sure he was watching before engulfing his length between her lips and into her mouth. His eyes slammed shut and his back arched as a warm, wet tongue stroked the length of him, from tip to balls and back again, the fingers gripping the base making small movements up and down in counterpoint to her mouth.   
His hand clenched into fists, wanting nothing more than to bury them in her silky hair, feel her head move over him, draw him in only to release in a slow drag, the muscles in his thighs turning rigid with tension, his heels digging into the covers to lever himself more fully into her willing mouth.   
She tormented him unmercifully, his head thrown back and mouth open as her teeth and tongue, lips and fingers brought him to a shattering climax, his body shuddering as it expelled itself against her tongue to be swallowed until he was spent. Jamie finally released him, her lips giving him a final kiss before she straddled his still quivering thigh and sat up to watch him, panting heavily, below her. In his aftermath, he gave of streamers of contentment, gratitude, love, and lassitude, Jamie letting it wash over her, her hips moving to rub her moist, slick center against his hair-roughened skin. As she moved, images entered her mind of Mitch making love to her, plunging himself into her, enveloping her, devouring her in his passion, her body movements quickening until suddenly she started to shake, exquisite shivers chasing up and down her back as her orgasm rippled through her.   
Mitch watched her reaction through heavy-lidded eyes, a smug smile curving his lips and showing his dimples in the lines bracketing his mouth. She was a glorious sight, perched on his leg, using him for her pleasure, her breasts rosy and full and as tempting as ripe fruit. He lifted his knee and tipped her forward to fall across his chest and to the side, his arm catching her to him, their legs entwined.   
“I love you,” he murmured, nuzzling her head.   
Jamie hummed and whispered it back to him, her lips pressing against his shoulder in a kiss even as she snuggled closer. Minutes later she was asleep, warm and soft, a perfect fit against his body.

Now it was early the next morning and someone was insistently knocking on their door. Mitch carefully eased himself out of bed, so as not to wake up Jamie. Pulling on a pair of boxers, he padded through the apartment, rubbing his eyes, to open the door.   
“Ally?”   
Doctor Scofield slipped through the gap and he shut the door after her.   
“A bit early for house calls?” Mitch queried. “Jamie is still asleep.”  
Ally walked further into the room, her movements jerky and tense.   
“Look. You have to make her understand, my position here is...difficult. She can't afford to kick up a fuss over me not being her doctor.”  
Mitch snorted. “Jamie is a force of nature. I don't dictate how she behaves, and I'd advise you not to try either.” He wandered over to the small dining table and sat down, Ally doing the same after a few seconds.  
“You don't understand. I no longer have their...confidence, I suppose you'd say. They'll treat her with kid gloves at the start, but they won't put up with it for long.”  
Mitch leaned back in his chair. “Who is this 'they' that you're so afraid of ?”  
Ally twisted her fingers together for a moment before tucking them under the edge of the table, out of view.   
“I can't answer that either. You just have to trust me.”  
Mitch leaned forward, one hand raking through his already disordered bed-hair.   
“Well, there's the problem. You obviously trust us enough to come and try to persuade us not to be difficult, but why should we trust you?”  
Ally briefly covered her face, dragging her hands down until they hid her mouth. Then she rose to her feet. “You're right. I shouldn't have come here...” she made to leave, but just as abruptly sat down again. She looked confused for a moment, then her eyes widened and she stared at Mitch, who hadn't moved at all, not even a twitch.   
“Oh, my God. You did that! You stopped me.”  
Mitch gave her a slow blink and a familiar head tilt. Ally slumped in her chair, her previous tense posture now gone. “I suspected, but had no proof...” Her eyes came up to meet his, a spark in them where before they were flat. “Does Jamie know?”  
“Of course. Doctor Scofield I'm going to give you something, and I want you to read it, then pass it back to me. Do you understand?”  
Ally nodded. She watched Mitch get to his feet and pad over to the small table beside one of the armchairs. He extracted a piece of paper from the jacket thrown down there and carried it back, handing it to her held between two fingers.   
Ally took it and unfolded the sheet. Her eyes scanned the contents, then re-scanned them. She folded the letter and slid it across the table towards Mitch.  
“Yes.” She replied simply. She met his brown eyes and held them, knowing what he was about to do. She felt nothing but knew it was over when he smiled at her.  
“Then welcome aboard.”

x-x-x-x-x

Mitch brought Jamie up to speed when she awoke later. She was inordinately pleased and relieved that the Doc was not only on their side but coming with them. Mitch would approach Mike in the garage, while Jamie's assignment was talking to Kara and sound her out. 

To that end she had a late breakfast at the food hall when she couldn't see any sign of the nurse there, she headed to the nurse's station in the isolation ward and asked after her. Jamie was informed the nurse in question had been moved to another ward, so that was where she went next. 

The hospital wing was a labyrinth of corridors with colored stripes to lead visitors to their destinations. Jamie had her eye on the lurid pink stripe she had to follow and didn't see the body stalled in the middle of the corridor. The collision was soft and she found herself gripped by bony fingers, that just as quickly shoved her back so she fell against the wall.  
“You!” Hissed a male voice.  
“Doctor Adams.” Jamie rubbed her shoulder and straightened.  
The silence stretched between them, the Doctor glaring at her, Jamie looking anywhere but at him. Eventually, Doctor Adams tilted his nose up and put his shoulders back.  
“Excuse me.” Very obviously he stepped around her and hurried off, his white coat flapping.   
Jamie turned to watch him go, her lips twisting wryly. “You're welcome.”  
Up ahead she saw the pink line terminate at another nurses station, a familiar face behind the desk.   
“Kara?”  
The nurse looked up in surprise, her face quickly smiling when she recognized her visitor.  
“Jamie! Hi. Gosh, it seems an age since I last saw you, well, not exactly not seen you, I've seen you, of course in the food hall with that delicious man of yours. How is he, by the way?”  
Jamie smiled at her youthful enthusiasm. “He's fine. I was wondering if you had a minute to talk?”  
Kara looked a little startled as if no one ever asked her about herself, or wanted her specifically for anything.   
“Of course. There's a lounge for visitors just down the hall, I'll meet you there in a minute. Okay?”  
“Sure,” Jamie replied, walking down the hall as instructed and finding the tiny visitors room.  
A minute later Kara bustled in and sat down, only to bounce back up again.   
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.  
Jamie smiled and waved her off. “No. I'm fine. Sit down, Kara I want to ask you something.”  
The nurse complied, sitting perched on the edge of the seat, her hands clasped in her lap.  
Jamie echoed her posture. “Are you happy here?”  
The young woman blinked at her, then wet her lips in a nervous gesture. “Happy here?”  
Jamie nodded. Kara's eye shifted to glance left then right before focusing back on her visitor.  
“Why do you ask?”  
“Kara, I'm going to be leaving here very soon, and I'd like you to come with me.”  
Kara stared at her, then let out a laugh. “Of course you are, we all are when the ships arrive...”  
Jamie shook her head. “Well before that.”  
The nurse looked down at her hands. “I knew something was going to happen when your friends arrived with the baby. That stirred things up royally. Then when your man was admitted, things got weird, even weirder than usual. Now I'm being told to not mention anything to do with him, I'm getting bounced around from ward to ward, and...I'm afraid. I keep thinking I'm being watched.”  
Jamie gently laid one of her hands on top of Kara's. “That's one of the reasons we're leaving. There's plenty of room for you.”  
Kara looked up, swallowing hard. “Would I have to do anything?”  
Jamie shook her head. “Not a thing. When you shift ends, just come to my apartment and we'll fill you in on the details. Can you do that?”  
“Sure, that's easy. I'll say that's why you asked to see me here, but I'd better not stay any longer.” Kara bounced to her feet and almost jogged on the spot in her agitation.  
“See you later then,” Jamie added with a small smile.   
Kara returned it briefly, then shot out of the door to return to her desk. Jamie followed at a more measured pace, barely glancing at the girl, who had her back to the hallway, as she passed.

X-x-x-x-x

Mitch was there to greet her when she returned to the apartment, his strong arms enfolding her in a hug before releasing her to look into her face. His instantly pulled into a frown.   
“It was nothing, Mitch. No harm was done.” Jamie told him, keeping her hand at her side to stop reaching up to rub her bruised shoulder. She needn't have bothered with the effort, Mitch doing it for her.   
“Bastard,” he enunciated softly, gently running the palm of his hand over the bruised joint.   
Jamie sought to distract him. “I spoke to Kara. She'll be over later, so you can assess her then.”  
Mitch kissed her on the forehead, content to let his anger at Adams melt into the background.  
“You'll be pleased to hear my meeting with Mike was kind of a success.”  
“Only kinda?”  
“He's not entirely unhappy in his job, but he is unhappy with his boss, and he misses his family.”  
“He's married?”  
“No, but being unable to contact his parents and associated relatives has been eating at him for awhile. He also hates boats and the military.”  
Jamie settled herself at the dining table. “Guess he's not keen on being evacuated by the navy come September?”  
Mitch shook his head. “Not even close. If we can get him to his hometown, he's along for the ride.”  
Jamie drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “So, three down – five if we include Clem and the baby, only the other four to make their minds up.”  
“Which I'm sure they will before much longer.”

x-x-x-x-x

Later that day they were seated in the food hall when a commotion seemed to pull everyone out towards the entrance.  
“Come one, let's go see what the fuss is about,” said Mitch, pulling Jamie to her feet.  
They tagged along on the fringes of the crowd, reaching the entrance hall to see a number of people, soldiers included, milling about, their clothing and wariness setting them apart from the crowd.  
“Looks like Dariela got her wish,” Mitch murmured against Jamie's ear.  
Up ahead a glad cry was almost not heard over the swell of voices, a woman throwing herself upon a slight figure appearing from behind a burly man. The tall figure of their friend Abe was quickly by the woman's side, enfolding both her and the boy in a hug that said it all.  
“Isaac's arrived, I'm so pleased for Dariela, she really was fretting about him.”   
“Look's like they had a rough time getting here. There's Jackson, let's go join them.” Mitch led them both to the knot of people standing to the side, the boy Isaac now held high in his father's arms, the child beaming down at his parents, his fingers held by his mother.   
“Hi, Isaac,” Jamie called out, waving to the boy, who waved back, smiling happily.  
Mitch had turned to speak to one of the soldiers, quizzing him about their trip while his friends continued to fete the boy thankfully returned to his worried parents in one piece. Dariela kept wiping at the tears that persisted in leaking from her eyes, her son reaching down to wrap his skinny arms around her neck.  
“Don't cry, I'm here now, don't cry.” Unfortunately, that had the reverse effect, the boy clinging to his mother while she tried ineffectually to stem the tears.   
“I'm happy, my son, I'm just so happy to have you here.”  
Abe was quite moist around the eyes himself, ruffling his son's hair while the boy hugged his mother.  
Mitch had finished quizzing the soldier and now turned back to the happy reunion.   
“Great to have you with us again, Isaac.”  
The boy looked up at Mitch, pushing back from his mother a little way. “I'm so glad too,” Isaac replied, giving everyone a toothy grin.  
Dariela held on to her son's hand, smiling, at last, her tears beaten back. “Come, Isaac, we'll go to your apartment and show you where you'll be staying with your Papa and me.”  
Mitch, Jamie, and Jackson watched as the boy left with his parents.   
“Tessa not with you?” Jamie asked.  
Jackson shook his head. “She had someone she wanted to talk to. You guys free for dinner tomorrow night?”  
“Free as a bird,” Mitch replied. “That will give Abe and Dariela time to settle and spend time with Isaac.”  
“Tomorrow night, our apartment, at seven.” Jackson nodded to them both then left, wending his way through the still milling crowd of onlookers.   
“Jackson is going to be so pissed off when I fill him in on my abilities,” said Mitch, turning to put an arm around Jamie's shoulders.   
“You knew that the moment it manifest,” Jamie retorted.   
“Yeah, I did. Still, nice to know they're going to be on board with us, together with Abe and Dariela.”  
“They've already made their decision?”  
Mitch nodded. “They may not have said it out loud, but it's there in their thoughts.”  
Jamie smiled up at him. “Good. Now we just have to finalize our plans, organize vehicles, supplies and get our hands on the two cures, oh and don't forget we have Kara coming over soon.”  
They started to walk through the thinning crowd in the direction of their apartment.   
“Guess we'd better get busy then,” Mitch replied, hugging her close as they walked away. 

x-x-x-x-x


	23. Moving Violations - Season Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same dance as usual - not mine, no money made, no harm no foul. All put back when I'm finished with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mitch rallies the troops, Jamie plays with guns.

x-x-x-x-x

Kara's visit went as smoothly as they could make it for the young woman. The poor girl was a bundle of nerves and jittery as hell. Mitch hardly had to say a word, Kara filling the silence with an endless stream of chatter. He did his thing but didn't find anything to concern him. Kara was exactly what she projected, a young woman in a thankless job now fearful of the environment she found herself in. She was not lacking in intelligence, her observations of what was going on around her well informed, precise and inciteful.   
Eventually, she ran down and stopped speaking, looking with wide eyes at first Jamie, who smiled back warmly, then Mitch, who also smiled but somehow made her more nervous.   
“You'd be most welcome to come with us when we leave,” Mitch announced. Kara visibly relaxed.  
“When will that be? I only ask, because there's stuff I can start to put aside, that we could use 'out there'.”  
“We don't want you to put yourself to any trouble, or get into trouble for anything you do,” said Jamie. “But if there is something we'll be able to use, and you can get it without being caught, then go for it.”  
“As for when,” said Mitch. “We looking to make our departure in two days time, mid-evening.”  
“Wow. That soon.” she stared at them both, then grinned. “This is so exciting. I can't believe I'm actually doing this!” Her enthusiasm was infectious, both Jamie and Mitch grinning along with her.  
“Get your stuff together and bring it here, remember, we will be getting things like clothes and other stuff on the road, so don't load yourself down, just take what you can't leave behind and everything else will be provided. Okay?” Mitch waited for her to nod before speaking again.  
“Good girl. If anything happens and you need to get in touch with either Jamie or myself...this is going to sound odd, but believe me, it will work...just think of us, bring us sharply to mind. You don't need to call out, or write anything down, just think. Understand?”  
Kara nodded, her eyes round again. “There's been talk about that. Just recently, I've overheard chatter about the hybrids ability to communicate over distances, is what you do like that?”  
Mitch smiled. “Something like that. The same if you're going to be delayed, or going to be on time. Just think it, strongly, and it'll get through.”  
“Okay. Wow. This is really happening.” She got to her feet, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jamie rose as well, giving the girl a hug which was returned enthusiastically.   
“I guess I'd better go and get started. I'll see you around.” Kara darted to the apartment door and let herself out, shutting it behind her.   
Jamie found her seat and flopped down into it. “She's sweet but exhausting. Was I ever that...bouncy?”  
Mitch smiled fondly. “When I first met you, you were a whirlwind blasting through my staid and boring life. You swept me up in your crusade and I've never regretted a moment since.”  
“She makes me feel old,” Jamie moaned, still smiling despite everything.   
“She called me an 'old guy'. Think how that makes me feel?” Mitch retorted, both of them smiling at the incongruity of that statement.   
“She also called you my delicious man, so I think she's revived her opinion of you since then.”  
Mitch groaned. “It's like being a lecturer again, nothing so embarrassing as having a nubile teen think they have a crush on you.”  
Jamie turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed. “Were you ever tempted?”  
Mitch twisted to stare at her. “By one of my students?” He paused as if mulling over the question. “Well, there was this one student...” He started, only to have a cushion lobbed at his head seconds before his lap was filled with a laughing armful of warm Jamie.   
“I don't care if you have a dozen students with crushes on you, as long as I'm the one you take to your bed.” Her sultry voice sent a spike of desire down to his groin. With an arm about her back and one under her knees, he lifted up from the chair with Jamie in his arms, her squeal of surprise turning to giggles that only fanned the flames of his desire for her.   
They were steps away from entering the bedroom when someone knocked on their door. They exchanged a rueful glance before Mitch set her on her feet.   
“I'll get that.”  
He opened the door to find Jackson on the other side. “Hey.”  
“Hey,” Mitch replied stepping aside to allow him to come in.   
“Hey, Jamie.” Jackson stood, clearly uneasy in the center of the room.  
“You've reached a decision?” Jamie asked, sitting down at the table.  
“We have,” Jackson replied, rubbing his hands down the outside of his trousers.   
“You're coming with us,” Mitch stated. “You and Abe.”  
Jackson sent Mitch a hard stare. “Yeah. We are. You said there were other things we didn't know about, I'd like to know what they are.”  
Mitch indicated for Jackson to take a seat at the table, which he did. Mitch sat down as well, taking a moment to marshal his thoughts. Jackson's were a swirly mass of indecision, suspicion and surprisingly, a large dollop of fear.   
“Okay, well the first bit of news that you don't know about is that I have developed a host of new skills since being infected by the hybrid spore. Those skills include...”  
“Reading minds!” Jackson abruptly interrupted. “I knew it, I knew there was something going on.”  
Mitch raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Jamie for a moment.  
“Yes, I can. There are other things associated with that, but reading thoughts is the main skill.”  
Jackson popped up out of his chair and started to pace. “Now it makes sense, of course...”  
Mitch and Jamie watched Jackson pace about the room, obviously excited or perturbed by the revelation.   
“You know that Tess and I have been working on my own skills and abilities with animals, but nothing we've done to date has come close to reading thoughts in another person. I sometimes see what I think are like auras, colors around a person, that change and shift according to their mood, but I'm still working that one out.”  
“I can do that too,” Mitch told him. Jackson stared at him for a moment then continued to pace.   
“Have you tried it on animals?”  
“Not as yet, the opportunity hasn't exactly presented itself,” Mitch replied drily.   
Jackson finally ceased his pacing and sat down. “So you can mind read, what else? I mean what other things don't we know?”  
Mitch glanced over at Jamie. “You want to tell him?”  
Jamie nodded. “The other secret, Jackson, is that I'm two months pregnant, and no, I haven't had anything to do with the cure for sterility.”  
Jackson gaped at her. “You're pregnant? How is that possible when they've only just perfected the cure?”  
“Well, several factors seemed to have been in play. Mitch was savaged by the hybrids ten years ago, setting him on the path to becoming hybridized, like you. His time in the tank, and out of it, seems to have been instrumental in advancing that, plus whatever Abigail may have done to him during the years he was Charles Duncan. The spore appears to have activated his dormant hybrid abilities as well as enhancing them. Mitch? Show him...”  
Mitch stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off to show his torso, back, and arms. The scars were now almost gone, faded from the deep gouges and scratches to merely silver lines or discolored patches crisscrossing his skin. “Before the spore I looked like a Frankenstein reject, my shoulder and arms, chest and back twisted with rope-like scars and deep scoring from teeth and claw. Whatever Abigail did to save me, she didn't employ a plastic surgeon to do any stitching or pretty me up. Just as well I already had a penchant for wearing long sleeved button up shirts. There was no way that I would ever take my shirt off before now.”  
Jackson was staring at the newly healed scars, shadows of their former gruesomeness. “I never realized how bad it must have been.”  
Mitch put his shirt back on. “It was like being a special effect in a bad horror movie. It's a wonder Jamie could bear to touch me.”  
Jamie remained silent, knowing the question to be entirely rhetorical. She hadn't cared one scrap about his scarring, only that they didn't hurt him any longer. They certainly hadn't stopped her loving him any less.   
Jackson seemed subdued as if seeing the reality of what Mitch had gone through had finally broken down the barrier of his mistrust and suspicion.   
“I now understand why I was reacting to Jamie the way I was that day in the cafeteria. You knew, didn't you?” He asked Mitch.   
“I did, and I warned you off, subliminally at least.”  
“You did that. Instead, Tessa got the benefit of my caveman attitude.”  
Mitch raised an eyebrow at him. Jackson laughed.  
“Don't worry, she rather enjoyed it. But I did wonder afterward...”  
“So now you know. You also need to know it won't just be our Team making the great escape. We'll have some new faces onboard, Doctor Scofield, Mike the mechanic and a nurse, Kara. We're also looking to leave here three nights from now. Is that going to be a problem?” Mitch asked.   
Jackson shook his head. “Abe and Dariela are happy now that Isaac is with them, and we've never really unpacked, so we're ready when you give the word. What about vehicles?”  
“I'm organizing that with Mike, we have to come up with a ruse to satisfy the guys on the swing bridge, and we've yet to get our hands on the cures, but one problem at a time, as you're fond of saying.”

x-x-x-x-x

Mitch sat cross-legged on the floor, in the dark, in the early hours of the next morning. He was reaching out, letting his mind stretch and reach places he hadn't been before, both inside and outside the airport buildings.

Many of the staff in and around the building were still awake, providing him with minds to search and bodies to carry him through rooms and different floors. He laughingly likened himself to a frog leaping from one lily pad to another, inspecting the pad briefly before moving on to the next. He was specifically looking for references to the cure, both for sterility and the hybrids. He knew that Doctor Adams' department was working on a poison to neutralize the spore, but they hadn't created anything to reverse the mutations. As cures went, the one for the hybrids was problematic. The poison would do the job of eliminating the spore but nothing else, also it left a residue in the water that was currently under study as to side effects on both animal, insect and human populations. What work had been done towards reversing the animal mutations was based on his own work from ten years ago, with little advancement to incorporate the current hybrid variations. He knew where to find the documentation on what had been done so far, and had a plan to obtain that in the coming hours. He also had his mind on lifting a laptop belonging to one of the hybrid researchers that seemed to contain the sum of knowledge to date regarding their progress.   
As for the cure for sterility, he had already surfed through Abe's personal knowledge, happy to leave it to him to be the main lead on pursuing that, but Mitch also knew where to find the prototype formula being made ready for the human trials. There was a lab used for storage where the vials were kept, that would be his next port of call after stripping the hybrid lab of all it had to offer.   
Timing was going to be crucial.   
Mike was going to be his greatest accomplice, arranging for his hunting friends to drive the extra vehicles in a small convoy with Mike using his familiarity with swing bridge procedures to get them across unchallenged. The young mechanic seemed confident it would be easy, then once on the other side the hunters would be given a choice, jump out or come with. After that, it was a simple case of stocking up from the list of business they'd compiled and making their escape. Managing such a large and diverse group of people, some previously known plus new faces adding to the general confusion, would be a challenge, but he had several propositions to put forward and the separate vehicles allowed for any dissenters among the group to take themselves off if needs be.   
He hoped that, like Jackson, he would have the ability to know when hybrids were near and to warn them away, making their time out of the trucks a lot safer. In this, he'd also have Jackson's for back up. No way was he prepared to put Jamie, Clem, baby Sam or Isaac in harm's way, so keeping any and all hybrids and animals in general out of their path would be one of his main priority to work on once they were underway. Jackson, he knew, would concur.   
After another hour he was satisfied he'd sourced and planned all he needed to before they left. He felt drained and was glad to give his brain a rest, taking himself off to bed where Jamie slumbered unaware, her sleep warmed body a perfect fit against his, her thoughts soothing and calm, just what he needed to send him easily into a deep sleep. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

Mitch did the rounds of everyone the next morning. Jamie had left early to pay a visit to the garage to discuss arrangements with Mike, while Mitch brought everyone up to speed individually, rather than in a conspicuous group.   
So far no one was questioning his natural leadership or what had been set in place. Everyone was clear on where they needed to be at a certain time, their belongings in hand. One change was made early, Abe was going to take on securing the sterility vials, once Mitch described where they were being kept. They weren't going to take everything, there was too much information and it would risk exposure to try. Abe had already been working on the fundamentals since he'd arrived and had a comprehensive knowledge of what was being done, his input pushing the program to where it was now. That just left Mitch to procure the hybrid research and prototype formula to destroy the spore.   
He made personal contact with the nurse, Kara and made sure she was still fine and prepared for the following night. Doctor Scofield was his next assignment, the woman tracked down to an apartment on the far side of the building. When he arrived she was clearly sorting and packing in readiness. He brought her up to speed with time and place and she relayed anything she'd found out since they last talked, which wasn't much. He left her with the instructions that if anything came up to delay her she was to send for him in her mind, he would hear her. She looked incredulous so he sent her a simple message, her eyes widening as she received it loud and clear.   
His missions accomplished he headed to the underground garage. For a moment he couldn't see either the mechanic or Jamie. A simple mental search sent him in the right direction.   
Mitch found Jamie on her back under a truck, Mike's leg sticking out beside hers.   
“Is this a private party? Or can anyone join in?” He asked, his arms crossed over his chest.   
Jamie appeared first, supported on a creeper, her face grimy. She grinned up at him.  
“Hey. Everything sorted?”  
Mitch grinned down at her and held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Indeed. Whatcha doing?”  
“Checking it over for bugs, trackers, the usual stuff.” She indicated two other vehicles lined up beside their Unimog. “We've already swept these, think they'll suit our purpose? We decided against the Humvees, they were just too old school.”  
She led him to the first, a double cab, six wheel all terrain vehicle with a windowed cab at the back.   
Jamie showed him the seating arrangement, two in the front, three behind, then showed him inside the back. “Every comfort of home,” she announced. “It used to be a broadcast van for a local television studio, it's not a youngster, but Mike reckons it can tackle more conditions with a huge roof rack, snorkel, bullbars and solid sides with roof access if needed.”  
“Cosy,” Mitch remarked. Jamie dragged him over to the second vehicle. It looked like a wild version of a landrover, a six wheelbase with extra high clearance, snorkel, another double cab, stairs to get up into the truck behind that, again sporting a massive roof storage frame, kitted out for camping and sleeping five. This one had both rear and side entrances.  
“Homey,” Mitch commented. Neither vehicle looked squeaky clean, both looking well used and covered with a layer of dirt and mud splashes. Jamie saw him looking.   
“They've all been in storage for the past ten years or so since the evacuation. They were left behind. Mike has checked them out and they all run well, no major rust or mechanical issues.” She gestured to them. “Whatcha think?”   
“Can they all haul trailers?” he asked.   
Jamie nodded. “Mike thinks he knows where we can pick up a small tanker. These are all diesel, so fuel should be relatively easy to find. And I reckon they're tough enough for what they'll face out there.”  
Mitch wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “You did good, both of you. These are great.”  
Together they spent some time clambering in and out of the new vehicles, as well as their own Unimog, Jamie using her tablet rescued from the tech bin to compile a list of what they wanted to pick up. Mike did the same, discussing the various merits of each bit of tech Jamie wanted to acquire, Mitch eventually leaving them to battle it out over solar panels, extra batteries, jerry cans and water storage.   
He sat in the cab of their Unimog and stared out of the windscreen, his thoughts turning inwards.

Jamie came to find him half an hour later, her tablet in her hand. “Hey,” she called out, flopping into the passenger seat. “You going to buy me lunch? I'm starving.”  
Mitch opened his eyes and turned to look at her. “All done here?”  
She nodded. “Just need the people and their baggage, plus Mike's friends as drivers, and we're ready to go.”  
“Then lunch is definitely on me.”

x-x-x-x-x

“What do you suggest we do, arrest them all?”

A group of eight men sat around a large wooden conference table situated in the penthouse suite of the hotel. They were arranged to face one man at the head of the table, his posture relaxed as he sat, legs crossed at the knee, and listened to his flunkies discuss the problem at hand. It was the speaker from the concourse – Crandall Evans.   
“Do we really want to try and lock up this bunch of rebels?” One of his men asked.   
The man at the head of the table let out a snort of derision. “Rebels, my ass,” retorted Crandall, “I'm surprised they stayed as long as they have. These people are not renowned for sitting back and letting history pass them by. From the first day they were brought together over ten years ago, they've gone against any attempt to rein them back or shut them down. The fiasco with the Noah objective and General Davies was a lesson in how far this group was prepared to go to achieve their own ends. Despite our best efforts to get rid of them, or of anyone who aided or supported them, they still found a way to thwart the authorities and us. Now they've been dumped in our patch and I, for one, am happy they plan to take their mutated freaks with them. Jackson Oz is from the same poisoned well as his sister and father, we're well rid of him. Mitch Morgan is arguably a genius, certainly, he's also a embittened loner and nothing but trouble. His daughter, who has a talent for stirring up trouble, has already contributed all she has to offer in regards the cure for sterility, so good riddance. As for Jamie Campbell, she is more trouble than she's worth, a thorn in my side for years now. Wish she'd have eaten a bullet years ago, but that's neither here nor there, she's another poisoned chalice, just look at her history with that young man, Logan somebody-or-other. Whatever she's carrying isn't human and they'll find that out soon enough for themselves. Frankly, we're well rid of the lot.”  
“What about Alexandra Scofield?” another asked.  
The man shrugged. “What's the loss of another specialist in a dead field? We have our safeguards in place, so whatever they steal can easily be replaced. Don't let these rebels without a cause divert us from our own agenda. We have a little over seven weeks to prove the cure so that by the time we arrive in Europe we have our bargaining chips nicely coming along.”

“I'll instruct security and the bridge guards to let them through.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

“You know I'm going to miss this old mattress,” Mitch whispered against her ear, his tongue dipping into the whorls and delicate shapes that made up the structure.   
Jamie sighed, whether in appreciation of his actions or in sympathy to his complaint, he couldn't tell.   
“We'll get you a new one, I promise,” she gasped, squeezing him inside her body as if to prevent him sliding out. He drew himself out until he was almost free only to slide back in again, filling her completely.   
“I'll hold you to that,” he murmured on a groan, raising himself up on his elbows to give him more leverage, picking up the pace, never taking his eyes of the woman writhing beneath him. Sunlight was starting to filter through the curtains, warning of the dawn. It was their last night before leaving and they wanted to make the most of it. After taking a leisurely shower, they made love once, twice three times before falling asleep, exhausted, hours later. Now it was the new day, the last day they'd spend at the airport, tonight they would be on the road, all the comforts of the apartment left far behind.   
Jamie stiffened then rippled around him, her breath leaving in a drawn-out moan, her limbs trembling in the aftermath. He followed her soon after, his breath puffing against her neck, his own body jerking in its release. Moments later he pulled out and slid to the side, his body relaxed and covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

“I'll almost miss this place,” Jamie murmured, stretching her arms above her head. “But not enough to stay. Just the thought of that long sea voyage makes me queasy.”  
“I don't think it's the voyage...” Mitch started to say but was preempted by Jamie launching herself out of the bed and across the room to the bathroom. Mitch followed, standing ready to hand her a small towel and glass to rinse her mouth afterward.   
Jamie sat on the floor, uncaring of the cold tiles under her bottom. “I will be so pleased when this is over. Whoever labeled this morning sickness, never had it at night, during the day, in the evening....ugh.”  
“We'll keep a bucket in the cab for you,” Mitch told her. Jamie sent him a glare. “Peachy.”

Their last full day at the airport was uneventful. Jamie slept the morning away, their personal effects already packed and waiting to be taken down to the Unimog. They only took what they could carry, leaving behind anything that couldn't fit into the backpacks.

Mitch chose the dinner break at the end of the day to collect the laptop and collect the samples of the formula intended to smite the hybrid spores. He was surprised not to meet more opposition but put it down to good timing, his mental sweep of the area not ringing any alarm bells. With his task completed, he returned to the apartment and collected Jamie. Together they slipped out of the main building and into the night. 

x-x-x-x-x-x

Mike's hunter friends, like Mike himself, were never planning on going with the rest of the occupants of the airport when the Navy arrived. To that end, they already had their own plans in place and were happy to thumb their noses at the authorities one last time before they departed.   
Mitch and Jamie were the last to arrive at the underground garage, everyone else already aboard their allocated transports, the front cabs only occupied by the hunters, Bill in one, Johnny in the other. Mike drove the Unimog now with its trailer hooked up, while Mitch and Jamie rode in the back, out of sight as everyone else was.  
With no lights on, they tooled their way out of the garage and immediately headed out over the runways, avoiding the lights around the airport buildings as much as possible. Mitch reached out to see if there was any reaction to their leaving but found nothing had been tripped or set off with their departure. It was almost too easy. Shaking his head to dispell his misgivings, Mitch refocused on the guards at the swing bridge which was coming up quickly. 

In the back of the truck they listened to Mike give his spiel about making this trip much longer than previously, the guard seemingly accepting his explanation regarding the extra trucks and trailers. Apart from wishing Mike good fortune, the guards made no request to inspect the back of the trucks or examine what might be inside the trailers. Mitch reached out and did his own inspection of the thoughts and feelings of the men guarding the bridge. He was in for a shock.   
“They know we're leaving,” he uttered in hush tones. “The guards have orders to wave anyone through who wants to go, but to be especially on the lookout for us.”  
Jamie clutched at his arm. “How could they know? What did we miss?”  
Mitch shook his head. “I don't know. For whatever reason best known to himself, whoever is running the show is fine with us all leaving.”  
The three trucks were on the center swing part of the bridge, the gears working to close the gap so they could drive to the mainland side. Again, there was no opposition, the guard joking with Mike and asking for whatever he could find to bring back, wishing him good fortune for the hunt, and waving them all through the massive metal gateway.

Once across, Mike led the trucks through the local streets until they were well out of sight and sound of the men at the swing bridge, then he pulled over.   
Everyone piled out of the trucks, most looking relieved and happy, only Mitch and Jamie looking less than pleased with how things had worked out. Jackson noticed.  
“What's up with you two? We're out of there without a hitch!”  
Mitch raked a hand through his hair. “They let us go. Whoever is in charge, probably that Crandall Evan's you mentioned, knew we were going. The guards had orders to let anyone who wanted to go – go through unchallenged.”  
Bill spoke up. “How do you know that?”  
Mitch turned to the older man. “Let's just say I have a nose for these things. In some ways, it means we can relax and take our time now. There won't be a posse on our tail trying to force us back. On the other hand, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with someone having the upper hand.”   
Kara approached, her eyes darting nervously around the buildings and streets. “Should we just be standing here like this? What about the hybrids?”  
Mitch gave the girl a warm smile. “You're quite right, we should use our time to gear up. Bill, Johnny where can we drop you?”  
The two hunters exchanged a look then Bill cleared his throat. “Look, we've got nothing back there to keep us, so we thought we'd tag along with Mike and you guys.”  
Mitch quickly explored their thoughts and reviewed their motives. “Until we find somewhere to make our base, this is going to be a rough road trip for a while. Things are pretty bad out there.”  
Bill shrugged. “It's bad all over from what I heard from the latest batch of tin hats to reach here. I'd rather take my chances out there than be under martial law once the Navy poke their noses in.”  
Mitch turned to face the younger hunter, Johnny. “You agree?”  
The younger man grinned toothily. “It won't be boring, so that's a plus.”  
Clementine appeared with baby Sam on her shoulder. “We'll need more vehicles if we're going to accommodate fourteen people.”  
Johnny did a head count. “I've only got thirteen.”  
Clem rolled her eyes and held up Sam. “Fourteen?”  
Johnny gaped then grinned. “Oh, yeah, fourteen.”  
“We'll start with the dealerships. Without a horde of gun-toting security wanting to bring us back, we can take our time. Mike? You and Jamie are upfront in the Unimog. You'll lead as you have the most local knowledge. Bill? I'll partner you with Jackson and Tessa, along with Kara in the second truck. That leaves Abe to drive the last truck, with Johnny, Dariela, Isaac, Clem and the baby. Doc? You'll be in the Unimog with me. Let's roll out!”  
In the glare of the spots and headlights, everyone scattered to their designated vehicle. Mike fired up the Unimog and led the small convoy down the darkened streets, only occasionally seeing the reflected glow of animal eyes peering at them as they rumbled past. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

Their first stop was a locked and fenced yard that seemed to contain ex-military vehicles. Those stored outside were in a sorry state, canvas covers rotted and the vehicles rusting away on flat tires. Inside the huge shed, it was a different matter. Apart from a thick coating of dust, the collection of trucks, trailers, and troop carriers were in good condition. Under the spotlights they examined each offering, choosing just one to add to their convoy. Johnny found the keys in an adjacent office and climbed into the cab to fire it up. After four attempts and a fresh set of spark plugs, it roared into life, with much whooping from the driver. It was similar to the other two trucks in having a cab built onto the back kitted out to provide a field post on maneuvers. On board, it could sleep four with small windows to let in light and a backswing door for access. All the other vehicles were similarly searched and anything found that could be used was packed into a trailer. Most of the trucks also had diesel still in their fuel tanks.   
Because the vehicles were all decommissioned military their diesel was already low sulfur and had been treated with various conditioners to prevent the diesel from degrading inside the fuel tanks and gumming up the filters.  
Bill found the access port of an underground fuel tank, the gauge reading nearly full. Unlike modern diesel having a limited life, by adding preventative compounds, the military grade diesel had a much longer lifespan. A simple test and filtering system would help eliminate the impurities that could spell mechanical disaster, but it would take time. Those not needed to help with the siphoning, testing and filtering bunked down, leaving Mike to organize the remaining men with sourcing clean drums for the diesel plus a selection of fuel line filters that would need to be replaced on a regular basis. They also needed to take as many of the metal deactivator, biocides, antioxidants as available to treat the tanks and fuel. Access to better grade diesel would be easier once they got beyond the barrier, where regular deliveries meant fresher, less contaminated fuel. 

By dawn everyone had found a bed somewhere, getting a few hours sleep before they needed to start looking for other essentials like water, food and additional bedding. Firearms were also a priority, Mike, Bill and Johnny having brought their own. Mike hadn't been able to get access to the airport armory, so apart from Jamie's pistol, they were largely unarmed.   
When the sun was well and truly up they were moving out, heading to a huge shopping mall, one of many that could still house what they needed.   
Vehicles of every description still remained on the streets, but not so much in a state of chaos, the evacuation of Vancouver happening over a period of time, not all at once. Weeds and rubbish were more of a hazard, but despite that, they reached the mall without mishap. Mike had chosen this one because it had an arched dome to let in daylight, rather than being closed in like many where. Clem had created a shopping list and given it to Dariela, opting to stay in the truck with Sam rather than risk venturing out. One person stayed behind with each truck, while the others foraged.   
Before long some were returning with trolleys piled high with goods, tech or other essentials. Everyone helped with packing the trailers. Any bottled water was divided between the four trucks, the same with any non-perishable foodstuffs. A camping fridge was found with gas bottles, and that was fitted into the Unimog's trailer, instantly becoming the receptacle for the vials of the cure - hybrid, and reproduction. Bedding was distributed among the trucks, Mitch producing a brand new mattress, personally tested to his comfort level, and proudly displayed like a hunting trophy to Jamie. Being used to packing to the best effect, she positioned the new bed as the previous one had been, on top of a heap of other stuff. Mitch also produced practically a shops worth of pillows, comforters, duvets and other linen, enough to make Jamie have to sort through what to keep and what to leave behind. Kara, aided by Mike, showed off her haul of medical supplies, some from a pharmacy, some from a doctors surgery, her proudest find a completely kitted out surgical array, plus sterilizer, all added to their collection. 

Having purloined all they could from that shopping center, their next port of call was weaponry. Jamie pointed out several gun dealers in the immediate area and they headed out. With the extra vehicle, nobody had to stay in the back of the trucks, all being able to sit – if not in front with the driver, at least only just behind in the case of the double-cabs. Now they split themselves up into the different vehicles. Jamie and Mitch in the Unimog, Bill, Jackson, Tessa, and Kara in the second truck, Abe, and his family in the third, while Mike, Johnny, Ally, Clem and baby Sam made up the fourth. All had a share of the fuel, the water, food and medical supplies. If something happened to split them up, all could survive on their own for a short time. 

The gun shop proved a treasure trove. It had been ransacked at some stage, probably by people from the airport given how close it was. Despite that, they found a locked room at the back which yielded up such gems as shortwave radios to fit in each of the trucks along with the aerials to go with them. Jamie and Mike had fun sorting out ammunition for each of the weapons they chose to take, again distributing them among the four trucks, amassing enough firepower to hold off an army. Whoever the shop had formerly belonged to, suffered from a healthy dose of paranoia, his collection of accessories including top quality night vision scopes and goggles, and a fine assortment of non-ballistic weapons like crossbows, knives and tranq guns to round things out. The tranquilizers themselves were long past their due by date, but Abe figured it wouldn't be too hard to create a fresh batch from chemicals found in any reputable pharmaceutical suppliers. 

Equipped to defend themselves adequately, the convoy moved on, zig-zagging across the city and suburbs picking up various bits of equipment including a diesel generator, a satellite phone array, solar panels, tools both automotive and DIY, spare parts and any food or water they came across.  
One of their last ports of call was a motorcycle shop where they rifled through the showroom and back storage rooms, Jamie finding her favorite leather pants and jackets, Mitch even finding one to add to his collection. Everyone found pants and jackets to fit, plus wet weather gear, along with protective helmets, goggles, sunglasses, and gauntlets. Like a suit of armor, it would add to their layer of protection. Ally found a selection of engine parts and accessories to give her bike a longer life, along with spare tires, chains, and anything else it could possibly need. Her bike was currently strapped to the roof of the Unimog, riding high and protected under a tarpaulin.

By the end of the day, everyone was satisfied they'd found everything they could need for the time being. They were able to feed and water themselves, provide their own fuel and defend themselves. Now it was time to plan their route back to the barrier and beyond. 

They drove to the outskirts of the city, leaving behind the slowly decaying buildings and abandoned streets. Mike directed them to a local vehicle lock up, the fence high and topped with razor wire and a sturdy gate to lock behind them. Secure behind the wire, they dragged over a couple of metal drums and filled them with rubbish before setting them alight. The sun was setting under a leaden sky, the weather looking to turn by morning. They dragged out a motley collection of folding chairs, the four trucks parked in a circle of metal armor. It had been a long day and everyone was keen to find their beds after finishing their meals. At a camp table, Mitch had several maps laid out, a handful of highlighter markers at the ready to trace a route to the west. Also on the table were several lithium battery powered camping lanterns throwing out a good light to read the details. After everyone had finished eating, Mitch stood up and started to speak.   
“I think we can all agree that we have now fully equipped ourselves in preparation for anything that out there...” He gestured with a sweep of his arm. “...will try and throw at us.” He looked around the circle of faces, some familiar, some new. “Some of us have already traveled this route in the opposite direction, so have some idea of what to expect in regards the condition of the roads. I am not keen to return to the crossing at Butte mostly because it doesn't take us in the direction we need to go. Our ultimate aim is to find a base of operations where Abe, myself and Doc can continue to work on the cures for what is happening to the hybrids and the spore. We also have to do a human trial on the sterility cure. Both Tessa and Dariela had already put themselves forward and I intend that to go ahead. Once the cure is proven to everyone's satisfaction, we can start to distribute it, small at first, but eventually get the word out to those still alive across what's left of this country. Beside this, is the almost more important need to find an antidote to the hybrid spore. There isn't a hope in hell of being able to poison every single spore in every water source, it's just not possible, but being able to inoculate people against its effects is doable. We have the brain power and once a fully working lab is established, a result is guaranteed. The scientists at the airport were a long way down this road but were thinking in the wrong direction. If any children born into this world are to have a hope of survival they need to be able to exist alongside the spore without it affecting their health. So, with all that in mind I'm proposing we travel south to Portland, then head west to Boulder Colorado, to the barrier crossing there. We know it's unmanned with a massive breach making it easy to get through.” Mitch looked up and tried to gauge how the people around him were processing the information. “Before I proceed, any questions?”  
Clem instantly put her hand up. “How does this help get me back together with Sam?...er, I mean Connor. He's down in South America.”  
“We'll try and make contact with the authorities down there and find out exactly what the situation is, once we're settled somewhere. Once Connor is back on his feet I'm sure he'll be doing something similar to find you and baby Sam. Part of the reason for a permanent base of operations is to ensure a reliable power source so we can initiate communications not only with South America but with whoever is left on the east coast. Something you need to understand, we are going to be setting up in direct competition with the people we've just left behind. Just like we're always done, we're going up against a cabal that wants to rule the world, one baby, at a time. I'm not content to let that happen. We need to reclaim what has been lost by making the hybrid spore a non-issue for anyone living on the North American continent, and make it possible for people to reclaim some semblance of their former lives while living alongside the new hybrid species.”  
Bill suddenly spoke up. “We've seen some strange shit hereabouts. None of the domestic animals are the same as before. Either they've been changed into something unrecognizable or they've shown some pretty crazy behavior.”  
Mitch nodded. “Jamie and I were witnesses to some of that on our road trip here. Cattle seemed to have developed a hive mind, moving and thinking as one entity. If all domestic animals are similarly affected we could be looking at having to create a largely vegetarian based agriculture.”  
“Kinda like Animal Farm all over again!” Bill retorted.  
“An animal revolution,” added Johnny.  
“That could exactly be the case. If the animals are controlled by the hybrids, and I've seen instances where this is the only answer to their behavior, then we will have to rethink a great many things.”  
“You think the animals have grasped the concept of revenge?” Mike asked. “That's a bit of a stretch!”  
Mitch pointed to Abe. “Ask Doctor Kenyatta about his experience with the lions. Ask Jackson about his close encounter with an elephant. I can tell you about bats sacrificing their own lives to disable a power transformer in Brazil. Dariela can tell you about her experience with horses. All of these incidents pointed towards a desire, if not to revenge themselves on humans, then an imperative to dismantle human-made creations, whether a power source or an airplane, entirely regardless of their own lives, much like bees willingly sacrificing themselves to protect the hive.”  
Kara raised her hand to speak. “I was hoping we'd be able to visit my hometown to find my folks.”  
“Same here,” said Mike.   
Mitch read their fear but could say little to reassure them. “In all probability, if any of your family is still alive then they will have been evacuated either towards the east coast or south to Panama. I don't want to give you false hope that you'll find your relatives, but I can say that once we reach and settle on a base, then you are free to go, in fact as long as your leaving doesn't jeopardise the group, you are free to leave anytime from here on in. This isn't a dictatorship, I'm not forcing anyone to follow this plan, this is just what I see needs doing, and I'm going to do my best to achieve what I can. After that, if anyone has other plans, they are free to carry them out as well. All I would ask is that we stick together until we get through the barrier.”  
Everyone could see the sense in that and either nodded in agreement or made a noise or gesture of agreement.   
“Right then. First thing tomorrow, after breakfast we head out south to Portland. Any further questions or queries to be settled?”  
Nobody spoke up so Mitch waved his hand. “Get a good nights sleep, tomorrow will see a lot of ground covered.”  
He waited for the group to disperse, staring down at the maps spread out on the table. Clem came up and wished him goodnight, the baby already asleep on her shoulder. Mitch kissed them both hoped they slept well. Jamie was the last, coming to stand beside him, her hand finding his.  
“I think they finally understand just how big an undertaking this truly is,” she said, leaning against him. “Do you have any idea of where we might eventually settle?”  
Mitch squeezed her fingers against his. “Somewhere warm and green where it never snows, doesn't have pine trees but you can grow anything you want in the soil.”  
“Sounds heavenly, like an oasis.”  
Mitch smiled down at her. “Somewhere to dream of a future.”  
“I'd like that. Come on, professor, time we went to bed.”  
Mitch let go of her hand to allow him to gather up the maps while Jamie snagged the lanterns. Together they carried the table to their trailer, where it was packed away with their folding chairs. After perfunctory ablutions, they climbed into the back of their Unimog.   
After shutting the door, they peeled off their boots and clothing down to their underwear. Mitch took off his glasses, putting them in their customary ledge before throwing himself down on the new mattress and bedding.   
“Oh, yeah. Gotta love that newly laundered smell...”  
Together they lay side by side, just one lantern left alight in the truck.   
“Home sweet home,” Jamie whispered. Mitch sighed.  
“Don't you sometimes wish we were the sort of people that could just chuck the whole fucking world off our shoulders and just walk away?”  
Jamie rolled on her side to face him. “If we were those sorts of people we wouldn't be here, together, expecting a new life, loving each other and the people we call family. If we were those sorts of people we wouldn't exist.”  
Mitch turned his head to face her, his face scrunching up as he tried to decipher her convoluted logic. “I think the answer to that is – yes.”  
Jamie giggled. Mitch leaned close enough to kiss her.   
“To the future, because there will be one. We are exactly the people we are meant to be, weight of the world included. Have I told you lately I love you?”  
Jamie snuggled against him. “Maybe. Why not show me instead?”

x-x-x-x-x-x

The fires in the old oil drums died away to embers, the dark of the city now complete. Overhead, the clear skies showed off in pinpoint clarity the sweep of the milky way spread out like a sparkling necklace, the majesty of the night sky uncaring of the affairs and fate of men. The small circle of armored vehicles protected the flickering flame of hope within them, the people sleeping inside preparing to set out in the morning and find a safe haven from where to start the fightback. 

No biggy. 

X-x-x-x-x-x

The end of my version of a Virtual Season Four.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, faithful readers, the end of what I'm starting to think of as a virtual season four. I've enjoyed writing this enormously and hope you have enjoyed reading it just as much. There will be a sequel, or at the very least a very, very long epilogue. I want to know what happens next as much as you do. I've put aside several things in real life to get this story down, but now those things are howling for my attention, so be patient, I will be back.


End file.
